Alternate Love
by EternalOphelia
Summary: Chapter TwelveTHE ENDRon loves Hermione, and Hermione loves Ron. She and Malfoy are the Hogwarts' Heads, and of course do not get along. But when they discover a not so carefully hidden secret in the school, will everything changeRR
1. The Discovery

Ok, this is my first shot at a Harry Potter fic, so don't be mad if I screw some facts up. I'm an avid reader, so I read a lot of different kinds of books. It's been almost a year since I've read all the Harry Potter books, which I plan to read again before the sixth book comes out (I can't wait:D). Any mistakes that readers point out I will gladly correct, unless someone is a pooh and yells at me :(

This is, as advertised, a Hermione/Draco fic, for all intensive purposes, though it will be unlike any on this site (or at least I hope so :P). I've read some Hermione/Ron and some Hermione/Draco, and I love both scenarios, though in Rowling's world I would want Hermione with Ron.

Ok, enough blabbing. On with the fic!

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter One: The Discovery

Head Girl Hermione Granger walked briskly through the Gryffindor common room, ignoring her closest friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Earlier in the week they had collaborated on a prank with Fred and George, embarrassing her in front of the entire house. To be fair, she had expected it, what with how much time they had spent at the twins' joke shop the week before. But she wasn't about to let them know she wasn't mad just yet. Another day and they would know just how embarrassed she had been.

As the porthole behind her closed, she heard Ron's stunted apology. The porthole opened and he rushed out, grabbing her arm. Harry was quick to follow, the same remorseful look painted across his features. She felt slightly guilty, enjoying their regret so much.

"Please, 'Mione," Ron begged, pulling her into an awkward forced hug. She took a step back and eyed them both. "It was all in good fun. Fred and George gave us a right good scare with the same prank. We didn't think you'd be so miffed. Honest."

She turned her attention solely to Harry.

"He's right, Hermione," her dark-haired friend said, reaching for her hand. She allowed him to take it. "It wasn't supposed to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" she laughed. Harry shrunk back, releasing her hand. "Sorry," she said, a small giggle still behind her voice. "You guys didn't hurt me. I don't much like being embarrassed, that's all." She yanked them both into a quick hug. "Next time," she warned.

"No next time," Ron assured her, holding her just a little longer before allowing her to go off to her usual Sunday morning Head Girl/Boy meeting. It was never something either party looked forward to.

"So," Harry said, shoving his hands in his pockets as they made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. "You think she's figured it out yet?"

Ron's face couldn't have been redder if it was covered in paint.

"What'd'you mean?" he murmured. They both took their respective seats, ignoring the exceptionally loud hum of voices. Today was a Quidditch match. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The turnout promised to be outstanding.

"I mean, Ron, do you think Hermione knows you fan—"

"Got it!" Ron practically yelped, clamping his hand over Harry's mouth. "And no," he sighed, slouching a little. "At least I hope not…"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"So mudblood," Malfoy said, getting straight to the insults. They were, as usual, left alone in an empty classroom to discuss the letters both had received the following evening. Teachers were usually never involved in things as trivial as their current assignment, and therefore they stayed in the shadows until they were needed. "What do you plan to do about this?"

"Me?" Hermione scoffed. She was sitting as far away from him as possible. "We're in this together, Malfoy."

"I don't know the first thing about shit like this. Girls, and especially muggles, are better suited for these things."

"I can't do this by myself, Malfoy!"

"Fine," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Then what in Merlin's name could I do? I'm not what you would call humble."

"That's plain enough."

"What then?"

"I don't even know where to begin, alright?" she snapped. If he hadn't been used to her shortness with him, he would have been startled. No one, save Hermione and her two cohorts, dared talk to Draco Malfoy that way. "Things like this take a lot of time and planning, and especially cooperation. We have the perfects at our disposal, but the bulk of the load will be on OUR shoulders. I suggest we call for a meeting Tuesday night. And don't make some excuse that you have Quidditch practice, because I know for a fact that Ravenclaw practices are on Tuesday nights."

"Is your speech finished yet Granger?"

She stared him dead in the eye and nodded.

"Yes, Malfoy, I'm quite done. You can leave me alone now."

Without so much as a second glance, he exited the room. Hermione slumped in her seat and sighed almost painfully. The Yule Ball was one of the most looked forward to and dreaded happenings at Hogwarts. And this year, she and Draco Malfoy would be planning the entire thing.

She prayed that she would make it through the holidays without tearing her hair out.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"The Yule Ball?" Harry sighed, stroking Hermione's head that lay in his lap. Ron sat beside them, uncomfortable to say the least. She was, of course, very affectionate with him too, though it was always slightly awkward between them. With her and Harry it was smooth and—dare he think it—perfect. He couldn't shake the feeling that maybe they were not meant to be.

"Yup," Hermione groaned, closing her eyes. Just when she thought her stress levels couldn't get any higher, she was assigned to do the impossible. Cooperate with Malfoy. "Want to start taking bets for who kills who first?"

"Look at it this way. The Yule Ball is in two weeks, right?" She nodded, relishing silently in the gentle massage being applied to her scalp. After the day she'd had, she needed it. "After that, there aren't any real big things the Heads can work on together. Besides, you'll have the perfects to help."

"Yeah," she sighed. She opened her eyes and smiled up at Harry. "I suppose you're right. I'll just have to tough it out."

"Exactly." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then carefully slid off the couch, gently holding her head and placing it where he had been sitting. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Ginny and I are going for a walk."

"They're so adorable," Hermione cooed as he walked off to join Ginny at the porthole. They disappeared through it a moment later. "Don't you think, Ron?"

Ron nodded, his eyes seemingly permanently fixed on the blazing fireplace.

"Ron, is something wrong?"

He looked up and forced a smile. I love you, he thought. That's what's wrong.

"Long day," he said after a moment, not lying entirely. "I'm beat." He yawned and stood, offering Hermione his hand. She took it without hesitation, though that old familiar uneasiness consumed them both and their hands separated immediately once she was to her feet.

They walked in silence towards the boy's dormitory; she always walked Harry and Ron to bed, seeing as boys were not allowed in the girls' rooms. Upon arrival, Hermione could no longer keep her thoughts to herself.

"You know you can tell me, Ron," she said.

He played dumb.

"Tell you what?"

"Ronald Weasley," she scolded, shaking her head. "If you don't have the guts to tell me you like me, how is our relationship going to work?"

For a moment he was too stunned to move, let alone speak.

"I—" He began, but was cut off promptly as, for the first time, their lips made contact. Instantly they melted into each other's arms, deepening the kiss until neither could stand it any longer. "Hermione," he whispered into her flowery sweet hair. "I can't tell you how long—"

"I know Ron. I know. Me too…"

That night they laid awake in Ron's bed, whispering under the covers, completely blissful in their newfound relationship. Sometime during the night they fell asleep in each other's arms. No one in the room was the wiser of her presence until the next morning. And by breakfast, the whole school was abuzz with news of their romance.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Well," Hermione said as the last perfect exited the room. "That was easier and more painless than I thought it would be."

Malfoy only shrugged.

"We need to look over these notes, you know."

"I know," he groaned, snatching up the first piece of paper he saw. "Yule Ball Theme Suggestions," he read. "Under the sea?" He rolled his eyes and tossed the paper away. "The perfects are getting less and less qualified as the years go by. Damn Dumbledore's wits are going quicker than I thought."

"Please, Malfoy, don't make this take longer than it needs to."

"Why? Do you have a date with Weasel?"

"My private life is of none of your concern. But to answer your question, I want to get out of here as quickly as possible because the sight of you makes my stomach turn."

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Stupid mudblood…"

"Malf—" But before she could finish, something caught both their attention. Down the hall, in another empty classroom that was used mostly for storage now, they could hear raised voices. More specifically, Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall.

Ignoring their task at hand, Hermione and Draco crept quietly out into the hall and towards the source of the obvious argument.

"I simply do not understand why Hogwarts must guard this!" McGonagall sighed. "It has been proven time and again that this school is not a safe place for such things."

"I agree, Headmaster," Snape said, though quite a bit less enthusiastically. "We can't afford to let it fall into the wrong hands."

"But where else can it go?" It was Dumbledore's voice now. "Until I can find another more secure location, it stays here."

"But Headmaster!"

"Minerva," Dumbledore said, his voice calm yet commanding. "That is the best I can do."

Hermione and Malfoy looked at each other, confusion clearly written on their faces. What on earth could they be talking about to get the professors so worked up? Not a moment later they were running down the hall towards the classroom they were supposed to be in. Once inside, they let out a deep breath, seemingly together, their backs pressed against the door.

"What do you think—" Hermione began, but Malfoy already had the answer brewing.

"Tomorrow night, Granger," he said, his tone foreboding. "One AM. I'll be outside your house. We're going to find out what exactly the teachers think they can keep from us." She was about to protest, when he added, "Unless a mudblood like yourself doesn't think she can pull it off."

"Watch your tongue, Malfoy," she warned. "I'll be there."

"Brilliant," he said, a dark laugh behind his voice. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow night then. Sweet dreams, Granger."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Well, that was Chapter One. Hopefully it was long enough to get you readers to come back for Chapter Two :)

Note: Unlike a lot of Hermione/Draco fics, I did not put them in a "Head Room" together. I don't know if there really is one, but in my fic there isn't. It just didn't make any sense to me…Also, I know it seems like Hermione and Ron getting together is a big leap, but its 7th year, and their relationship has been brewing for a long time.

Note2: Yes, I am aware that this is a Hermione/Draco fic. That part will come in due time. Trust me :D

With all that said, please review!


	2. Space and Time

Recap:

"Watch your tongue, Malfoy," she warned. "I'll be there."

"Brilliant," he said, a dark laugh behind his voice. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow night then. Sweet dreams, Granger."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter Two: Space and Time

"I love you."

Hermione tilted her head back and looked up at Ron, his face upside down from the position she was sitting in. The common room was empty at this time of night, and they were just about ready to head off to bed as well.

"I love you too, Ron," she whispered back, savoring the warm feeling that coursed through her veins at the mere thought of him. For too long she had kept her feelings for him a secret to herself and to others. Only a few days before, when presented with the possibility that he may never find the courage to tell her, did she discover what her heart really wanted. Ron Weasley.

"I wish I knew you liked me sooner," he sighed. He kissed her forehead and smiled. The simplest little things he could do with her now. The feeling was more than amazing.

"Who says I liked you before seventh year?" she giggled, spinning around so fast and attacking his unguarded stomach that he didn't have a chance to block her. By the time he was able to squirm free, his sides ached from laughing.

"You witch!"

"Why thank you."

He ran after her, tackling her to the nearest couch, their lips finding each other immediately. It wasn't until they pulled back to breath, yawning simultaneously, that they realized just how tired they were.

"It's nearly midnight," Ron said, climbing off the couch and pulling her up with him. They walked towards the boys' dormitory and were almost through the door, when suddenly Hermione remember the night before and Malfoy's vicious dare.

"I think I should sleep in my own room tonight, Ron," she said, dropping her eyes. How she wished she could fall asleep in his arms. "I have to get up real early for this Head Girl thing, and I don't want to watch you like last time." Which was of course true, she had woken him up last night she got up early. But the knot in her stomach refused to untie. She was lying to him already and they'd only been dating less than a week.

"'Mione," he cooed, nuzzling his face in her neck. "I don't care."

"Just this once," she promised, pecking him on the cheek. "You tell me how good of a sleep you had, and if it was miserable without me, then I'll never go back to my room again."

"Fine, fine," he sighed. "You win."

They kissed goodnight, and he disappeared into his room, leaving her alone and riddled with icy guilt.

With a heavy sigh, she tiptoed back down to the common room to await Malfoy's arrival.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"For the record, Malfoy," Hermione said, after they had been walking in silence for some time, "I'm only doing this because I'm just as curious as you are, not—"

"You can add to your little record there that I don't give a shit," he grunted back. When they finally reached the room, Hermione had to unlock the door with her wand. They made it in just in time to escape Filch's prowling feline. "Damn, they sure cram a lot of useless junk in here."

"Malfoy?"

"What Granger?"

"How are we supposed to find this thing if we don't know what it looks like?"

"Simple," he laughed, brushing some snowy hair from his eyes. "We probably know what everything else in this junkyard is. Find the thing that looks strange and that's it. Simple."

"Right," she sighed, veering in the opposite direction. "Simple…"

After what seemed like an hour of searching, she heard a muffled chuckle from across the room. Malfoy stepped out from behind a high stack of boxes and presented her with the strangest thing she'd ever seen, Muggle or Wizarding World.

"What in the name of Merlin do you think it is?" she asked. It was about the size of a small loaf of bread, rectangular in shape and bluish in color. At the two farthest ends were what appeared to be handles in the "L" shape, and all over the supposed top were dozens of small buttons with strange undecipherable symbols. It was almost ancient looking. Hermione wanted to get away from it as quickly as possible. She did not like the bad feeling it seemed to be sending her.

"Dunno." Malfoy shrugged and proceeded to press a few of the buttons in random order. Horrified, Hermione grabbed at the object and tried to pull it away from him.

"You haven't the faintest idea what this thing does, Malfoy!" she snapped. "For all we know it could kill us!"

"You're just a paranoid goody two shoes," he mocked, pulling back harder. "Now let go before you break it."

But, before it either of their prophecies came true, they felt that all too familiar tug at the navel. It was too late to drop it now; they would simply have to see where the portkey took them.

Seconds later, the air stopped swirling and the two students righted themselves, confused to say the least.

"But we're—"

"—in the same place," Hermione finished for him. "Where's the…thing?"

Malfoy looked around, patted his chest and shrugged.

"Gone I suppose. Oh well, it was a useless piece of junk anyway. Didn't even bring us anywhere new."

"Malfoy!"

"What?"

"We have to find it! Clearly it's important, and we lost it! If Dumbledore—"

"Would you forget about that old coot and relax. No one knows we're here, therefore no one will find out. Merlin knows I would never tell anyone I snuck out with YOU."

With that said, Malfoy turned on his heel and walked out. Hermione was quick to follow, yelling under her breath at him the whole way to his common room entrance.

"I cannot simply ignore what just happened, Malfoy! We must tell Dumbledore or—"

"Or what?" he sighed. "We'll get expelled?" The mere thought of it made him laugh, and made a cold chill run ramped through her bones. Expelled!?

"Malfoy, just shut up for one second and—" But before she could finish, the Slytherin entrance came open and Pansy Parkinson stepped out, glaring at them both.

Hermione was so stunned with fear she couldn't even blink.

"Bickering again, are you?" Pansy groaned, rolling her eyes. "And I suppose you've forgotten the password, again."

"No," Malfoy snapped. He straightened himself up, puffing out his chest. "It's—" He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "—Dragon's blood."

"Dragon's blood?" Pansy laughed. "Draco, we haven't used that password in years."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed.

"What are you talking about Parkinson? I just used that password today!"

"You two haven't been doing drugs, have you?" She leaned in and sniffed the air around them. "'Cause McGonagall's still furious about what happened last week. She's just itching for reasons to take points away from Slytherin."

"What happened last week?" Hermione demanded, glaring heatedly at the Slytherin girl.

"You're too modest, 'Mione," Pansy laughed, slinging her arm carelessly over her shoulder. "Now you two better get back in here before someone sees you. We can't lose to Gryffindor this year."

"Parkinson," Malfoy all but yelled, yanking the girls apart. "Would you mind telling me what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you inviting that filthy mudblood into our common room? Have you bonked your head?"

Pansy stared at him for a moment, then burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

"Oh, that's a good one Draco. Hermione a mudblood? Right."

"But her parents—"

"Malfoy!" She pulled him aside and out of Hermione's earring rang. "You know very well that 'Mione's parents were killed by Death Eaters after she was born. It isn't her fault she has to live with those muggles. Honestly, show your girlfriend a little more respect!"

"Girlfriend!" Malfoy all but squealed.

Hermione's ears perked and she stared at Draco and Pansy, confused beyond belief. What was going on?

"That sorry excuse for a witch is NOT my girlfriend! How disgusting!"

"You didn't break-up AGAIN, did you? Really you two, it's getting old," she sighed, and without another word went back into the common room.

Mortified, they stared at each other, then back at the hall they had come down. Slowly, things began to fall into place.

"Malfoy!" Hermione screamed, flying at him with angry fists. "You moron! How could you! How could you! I'm a damn Slytherin! A Slytherin! What the hell did you press on that thing!"

"I'm just as confused as you are, Granger," he snapped, pushing her back. "Obviously, that dumb thing changed time or something. I don't know! But there is no way in hell you're stepping foot in my common room."

"Well I can't go to Gryffindor!" she retorted. "I'm a Slytherin, you idiot! A Slytherin…Oh God! What am I going to do!"

Malfoy leaned against the nearby wall, the gears in his head working. Hermione as a Slytherin AND his girlfriend simply would not do. But how were they going to change things back to normal when that thing they found disappeared?

"Ok," he said after an agonizingly long pause. "This is what we're going to do, Granger. You come into the common room and we pretend to be whoever they think we are—"

"I will NOT be your girlfriend, Malfoy!"

"Just shut up and listen," he groaned. "Tomorrow night we'll search the castle for that thing. It has to be around here somewhere."

"No," Hermione said.

"No what?"

"No, we are not sneaking around anymore. That's what got us into this stupid mess in the first place. We're going straight to Dumbledore in the morning and telling him what happened."

"Fine," he sighed. "It's your funeral."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione sat up, panting wildly, and looked hurriedly around the room. It was still pitch dark, the dead of night. She sighed with relief and fell back on her pillows. Thank God! It had all been a horrible nightmare!

She rolled over and closed her eyes, curling her arms around Ron's form beside her. He smelled so good! She still couldn't believe they were actually a couple. For too long they had been apart, and the thought of being his forever sent those all too familiar girlish chills through her. It was like a dream, but at the same time, she couldn't imagine her life without him.

She had wanted so badly to hate him in the beginning. Even after the troll incident first year. Harry had been so easy to warm up to, become attached to. Ron had been rough around the edges, an almost impenetrable shell surrounding him at all times.

It hadn't been just one thing that made her slowly fall for him. It was a collection of random and seemingly unimportant moments, showing her the course her life should take and who she should take it with. He was perfect for her, Ginny and some of the others had been saying that for years. She had liked him for so long before realizing that she loved him, that all along she had and had only been fooling herself to think she did not.

When she found out two weeks before that he felt exactly the same way, she knew, without a doubt, that he was THE one. And nothing could change that now.

Beside her Ron shifted in his sleep, and she pressed herself even closer to him.

"Granger," came an annoyed voice. She bolted upright, nearly falling off the bed. "Don't touch me when no one's around."

"Oh God," she cried, pulling her legs to her chest and burying her face in her knees. It hadn't been a nightmare. She was in Malfoy's bed, in Slytherin House, and her life was over. "Oh God…This can't be real. It can't be…No…"

Malfoy sat up, grabbed his wand off the nightstand, and illuminated it.

"You think I like sharing my bed with a mudblood?" he said. Hermione looked away. One, because she hated the sight of him, and two, he wasn't wearing a shirt, his tight rippling muscles bare for all to see. No matter how much she hated him she could not deny how absolutely gorgeous he was. "We're going to Dumbledore in the morning and this will be sorted out. Now go back to sleep so I can."

"How can you sleep? We're dating, Malfoy. And from the sounds of it, we have been for a long time. Who knows what—" But she couldn't bear to finish the thought.

"What?"

"What we have…done."

Malfoy cringed and eased back under the covers.

"Don't put disgusting pictures like that in my head, Granger," he ordered. "Go to sleep. Hopefully Dumbledoof has a charm that will make us forget the whole damn thing."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"If what you're saying is true, Miss Granger, I'm afraid there isn't a whole lot I can do for you," Professor Dumbledore said, his fingers pointed like a steeple as he sat behind his desk. Malfoy hadn't said a word since they got there twenty minutes ago.

"What do you mean!" Hermione demanded, completely forgetting that she was speaking to her superior. "I can't stay here! Not a Slytherin! No! You have to believe me!"

"I do believe you," he assured her. "And I know what device you speak of, but without knowing where in your alternate timeline things went wrong, there's nothing I can do. I know precisely where the 'device' you described is, but until I know how to change what you two have altered, there's nothing to do."

"But how are we supposed to know when that happened? Headmaster, I don't even know if I am fully comprehending the situation I'm in."

"Well then," he sighed, standing up. "Think your life over, Miss Granger. Something happened in this past that altered the present you know. Once you have that, I can send you back."

Hermione sighed and nodded. It all made sense, in a weird sort of way.

"Thank you Headmaster. Good afternoon."

"Well that was a big waste of time," Malfoy grunted when they were back in the hall. "Load of rubbish he was feeding us."

"Shut up Malfoy!" she yelled, clenching her fists at her sides. "Just shut up! I cannot deal with you right now!"

At that exact moment, what seemed like the entire school decided it was time to go to breakfast. They passed the unhappy "couple", whispering incoherently to one another. Hermione ignored them, turning her back away from them and Malfoy. But then, just as she was about to head back to the common room, where she would at least have some alone time with everyone else at breakfast, she heard something she could not ignore.

"Oh Ron," came a flirty girl's voice. Hermione spun on her heels, her eyes bulging. Ron, HER Ron, was walking towards the Great Hall, arm in arm with Parvati! A girl he had more than once said he hated. The sight made her angry and sick all at once. She was a milli-second from running after them, when Malfoy grabbed her arm and pulled her into an abandoned classroom.

"You're not grasping this, Granger!" Malfoy whispered, shutting the down behind them. "This is not our time or place or whatever. Weasley is with that girl, and you and I—" He cringed noticeably. "—are…together. I've accepted that! If we're going to figure this out and get back to where we belong, you're going to have to accept it too!"

She sunk to the floor, subconsciously pulling Malfoy down with her, and cried hysterically into his chest. Stunned, he allowed this, though would not go so far as to purposely console her.

"I just," she whimpered, pulling her head back and wiping her eyes with her robes, "I can't believe this is happening. Yesterday I was happy, with Ron. And now…now I'm a damn Slytherin and I'm with YOU. My life couldn't get any worse."

"Shut up," he sighed. He pulled her to her feet and adjusted his robes. "If I can help it, we won't be here any longer than we have to be. Just pretend like I said, and everything will be fine. God…"

"Malfoy," she said, giving way to her first smile since reality had struck. "Are you…are you trying to comfort me?"

"Cram it Granger," he warned. "I'm not going to listen to you blubber for days or weeks or however long we have to be here. Now I'm starving. And you're coming with me."

"Coming with you!" she baulked. "To the Great Hall? Where everyone can see us!"

"Yes, Granger," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Obviously everyone in the school knows about us. You need to face that fact before we can move on and figure this thing out."

"But Ron and P-P—"

"It's a different time, Hermione!" he yelled, grabbing her furiously by the shoulders. "Get a grip, calm the hell down, and clear your damn head! We can't get anything done if you're crying all the time!" He let go of her, taking several steps back. "I thought you were supposed to be a genius or something."

"I—" she began, but the words weren't there. For a long while the room was in complete silence, and then, the most unexpected thing happened. Hermione looked directly at Malfoy and let out a chilling laugh. For some time that was all she could do, and when she finally quieted down, Malfoy was beyond confused.

"Have you gone completely mental, Granger?"

She smiled and shrugged.

"You called me Hermione," she finally said.

"Shut up and come on. I'm not going to miss breakfast because of you."

"Alright Draco."

"Call me Draco again and I'll curse you."

She only shook her head and laughed softly to herself. If she was going to spend an unknown amount of time here, then she decided she was going to make the best of it. And annoying Malfoy was the perfect way to go about it.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I think I'm really starting to develop this story :) The idea for it just popped into my head out of the blue, and I wrote the first chapter in a few hours the same night. This is going to get interesting, heeheehee! :D

Review and I shall love you all!! :P 


	3. So Close

Recap:

"Call me Draco again and I'll curse you."

She only shook her head and laughed softly to herself. If she was going to spend an unknown amount of time here, then she decided she was going to make the best of it. And annoying Malfoy was the perfect way to go about it.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 3: So Close

The Great Hall was abuzz with its usual hodgepodge of houses, scarfing down as much food as they could to get through yet another day at Hogwarts. Breakfast was nearly over, but if they hurried, they could get something before the first classes began.

They were just about to sit at the Slytherin table, between Pansy Parkinson and Goyle, when Hermione caught sight of Harry out of the corner of her eye. He had finished eating early and was heading out of the Great Hall; Ron and Parvati were nowhere in sight.

Before Malfoy knew what was happening, she was away from him and headed straight for them.

"Harry!" she called, waving excitedly at him. "Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes." She wrapped him in a great bear hug, unaware of the look of disgust on his face, and the stares she was receiving from the rest of the room.

"Get off me!" Harry spat, shoving her back and into Malfoy, who had come after her, missing her arm only seconds before she latched onto Harry. But he had her now, wrapping his strong arms firmly around her from behind. He was easily six inches taller than her. "Snake," he muttered under his breath, turning to leave.

"You better keep your hands off her, Potter!" Malfoy warned.

"Me!" Harry turned on his heel, glaring Malfoy dead in the eye. His fingers were millimeters from his wand. "She jumped on me!"

"Clearly she tripped," he said matter-of-factly. "Touch her again and it'll be the last thing you do. Got that Potter?"

"Just keep your wacky girlfriend away from me, Malfoy," Harry shot back. He was out of the Great Hall before he said or did something he knew he would regret.

"What the hell was that, Granger!" Malfoy whispered furiously under his breath. "No girlfriend of mine touches Gryffindors willingly."

"He's my friend, Malfoy," Hermione protested, trying in vain to get free of his ironclad grasp.

"He's not your friend. And neither is Weasley, or any of the other damn Gryffindors. You're a Slytherin now, and furthermore, MY girlfriend. Do you want to stay trapped her? Try to blend in for God's sake!"

Hermione had her wand tip at Malfoy's throat before he caught the fiery rage in her big chocolate eyes. She bore the point as far as it could go without breaking through the skin, her fingers tight on the handle, her hands shaking. What did it matter to her if she cursed Draco Malfoy. As soon as she figured out when the timeline went wrong, she was home and would never have to worry about it again. But then, as her mind raced, she realized something. If she did exactly what she wanted to do right now, if she cursed Malfoy, then surely Dumbledore would never allow her to return to her real time, and she would be forever stuck here, without Ron, and completely alone.

Slowly, she lowered her wand, turned, and ran out of the Great Hall.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Great job keeping a low profile."

"Shove off Malfoy," Hermione sighed, not looking up at him, her cheek resting on her knee. They were in an empty hallway. The first classes of the day had begun, and for the first time in her life, class was the last place she wanted to be. "I didn't think your brilliant plan required us to be joined at the hip. Don't you have class to go to?"

"You know Granger," Malfoy sighed, sliding down beside her. She wrinkled her nose at him and scooted away. "I'm beginning to think you like being my girlfriend."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"That's the only reason I can come up with for why you're being so damn difficult. If you keep doing this, we're never going to get back."

"Well forgive me for hating you," she groaned.

"Forgiven." He stood, offering her his hand. She looked at him suspiciously, then grabbed his hand, and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"Hurry up you guys!" came a feminine voice from behind them. Pansy. "I'm late for class too! Come on!"

"We're—" But Hermione was abruptly cut off as Malfoy's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her in for a forceful, yet oddly passionate, kiss.

"Good," Pansy sighed. "You've made up. See you in class."

Hermione waited for her to leave before kneeing Malfoy in the groin. He stumbled backwards, hissing a few choice swear words.

"Mud—"

"Don't even try," Hermione snapped. "What the hell was that, Malfoy! I don't remember kissing being part of the plan! Never do that again!"

"It worked," he coughed, forcing himself to straighten up and ignore the pulsing pain. She would pay for that later!

"What worked?"

"Parkinson thinks everything is back to 'normal'. Just don't flip out and screw us again, Granger. I am not going to do THAT again."

"You shouldn't have in the first place! A little handholding would have done the trick too, Casanova!"

"Casa-what?"

"Forget it," she sighed. "Muggle thing."

"Speaking of muggles…"

"What? You hate them?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "But that's beside the point…Last night Parkinson said your parents were killed by Death Eaters and you were living with muggle foster parents."

"Excuse me?"

"She said you weren't a mudblood."

"That's impossible, Malfoy! Just because we changed plains, or whatever, doesn't mean my family's changed. She was lying."

"And how would you know? You're not from here and neither am I. I'm just telling you what I heard."

"Look, I don't have the energy for this, Malfoy. I'm going to Dumbledore's office to get a late excuse, and then I'm going to class. I'll see you at lunch I suppose."

Before he could open his mouth, she was gone.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Hermione."

She looked up from her homework and smiled meekly at Pansy. Yesterday the two of them wouldn't be caught dead together. Today, they were the best of friends.

"Draco's in the common room, waiting for you."

"Waiting for me?" she asked, setting her quill down. What could he possibly want now?

"Yeah. He sent me up here to get you."

"Umm. Right. Could you tell him I'll be right down?"

"Sure."

Hermione sorted her papers, stacked her books, and packed her bag for the next day. School today had been interesting to say the least. Professor McGonagall would barely look at her in Transfiguration, and in Potions, Snape actually called on her and didn't even make an attempt to insult her. Sometime around noon, just before lunch, she discovered that she was not Hogwarts' Head Girl, which, surprisingly, had been something of a relief. With everything else that was on her mind, Head duties were the last thing she needed. She found out too that Malfoy was not Head Boy either. She had yet to learn who they were.

The worst parts of her day, without a doubt, had been seeing either Ron or Harry. Every fiber in her being wanted to run over, hug them, and cry into their shoulders. She wanted to tell them what had befallen her and seek their comfort. It was something she would never get used to—and luckily, after they figured their riddle out—she wouldn't have to.

With a heavy sigh, she slid off her bed and headed for the common room. With any luck, most of the Slytherins would be in bed.

She found Malfoy sitting alone in an oversized black leather chair beside the fireplace. His cronies were nowhere in sight; the room was nearly empty.

She took a seat on the matching leather couch diagonal to him.

"I think I've figured it out," he said after a long while.

Hermione's eyes lit up.

"You're joking!"

"You're a Slytherin, right?" She nodded, leaning just a little further in. "Well, wouldn't the moment the timeline changed be at the Sorting Hat ceremony in first year?"

"You're right!" she squealed, throwing herself forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Tomorrow we'll go back to Dumbledore and tell him we've got it!"

"Granger," Malfoy groaned, shifting uncomfortably beneath her. There was no denying that she was unbelievably attractive. And, if she had been anyone else, he would have been all over her at this point. But she was a Gryffindor, and, above all, a mudblood. "Get off of me."

"Damn," she gasped under her breath, moving back onto the couch. "Sorry. But that's amazing, Draco. We can go back tomorrow and forget this whole thing!" Her smile widened into a grin and she sat back, staring off into the fire. "I'll be a Gryffindor again, and we'll be Heads, and we'll never have to see or talk to each other again unless its Heads' business. Oh! I can't wait to see Ron! I miss him…"

"Go see him then," Malfoy snickered viciously. "He's only over in the Gryffindor tour."

"Can it, Malfoy," she warned, shifting her gaze to him. "Don't ruin my good mood just because you don't have anything good to go back to."

"I have plenty to go back to, Granger," he informed her. He turned up his nose and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Really? Like what? Calling me 'mudblood' every chance you get?"

"I plan to see you as little as possible, for one. And then, with you gone, I can get back to bagging Pansy at my leisure."

Hermione cringed, but didn't look away.

"What's stopping you from doing that now? I promise I won't be jealous," she laughed.

"She's what's stopping me. She's with Goyle. Don't ask me why."

"Goyle! Ha! So she turned you down, huh?"

"No," he sighed. "I haven't had time to even think about her, or any other girl, since we got here. I'll have plenty of time to make up for these two days when I get back though; you can count on that."

"Charming, Malfoy." She yawned deeply, then stood and cracked her neck. "Well, I'm going to bed. I'm going to come wake you up in the morning so we can go see Dumbledore first thing."

"Good God woman! Don't you slow down? Even a little?"

Hermione only shook her head annoyedly and walked back up to her room. Tonight she wouldn't have to share a bed with Malfoy, for during the day she had figured out where her room and bed were without disturbing anyone. Tonight she would get a wonderful night's sleep. And tomorrow she would have her Ron again.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Malfoy opened his eyes, screamed, and tumbled to the floor. On the other side of the bed, Hermione let out a howling laugh, holding a stitch in her side.

"Are you mental, mudblood!" he snapped, scrambling to his feet. "Never do that again!"

"Get dressed," she said, unable to stop laughing. "And nice hair."

Malfoy grunted something undecipherable under his breath and trudged to the mirror on the far side of the room. Summoning his wand, he mumbled a spell, and instantly his bedhead was gone.

"You would never last a day in the muggle world," Hermione commented, leaning against the bedpost.

"Are you still here?"

"You don't need magic for everything, you know."

"Bug off, Granger. I'll meet you in the common room."

Five minutes later they were on route to Dumbledore's office. Ecstatic, Hermione had to restrain herself from skipping. As it was, she was practically running down the hall, Malfoy several paces behind her. By the time they reached the entrance, she was nearly jumping up and down.

"Calm yourself, witch," Malfoy sighed, pressing down on her shoulders. She shrugged him off and went on ahead.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's soothing voice.

"Good morning Headmaster," Hermione said, not wasting a second as she took a seat before his desk. Malfoy strolled in a moment behind her, opting to stand.

"Good morning Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. Have we figured out the answer to our dilemma?"

Hermione nodded vigorously and motioned to Malfoy.

"What?"

"Tell him," she said through her teeth.

"Granger was a Gryffindor in the other timeline." Dumbledore nodded; yes, they had said that before. He remembered seven years before at the Sorting Hat ceremony that he had been shocked when the hat placed her in Slytherin. Gryffindor would have been his choice too. "The Sorting Hat ceremony is the place where everything changed."

Dumbledore's eyebrows narrowed and his face went grim.

"What is it Headmaster?" Hermione asked, leaning forward. Her heart was beating so fast she swore the others could hear it. "Surely that's the moment."

"I'm afraid not, Miss Granger," he sighed. Her heart sank.

"But when else could it possibly be?"

"The Sorting Hat is never wrong, you must remember that. It placed you in Slytherin in this timeline for a reason. Something must have happened in your other life that changed its course. And that something happened before the ceremony."

"But I don't know this other Hermione!" she cried, grabbing the edge of his desk. "I don't know her past! How am I supposed to figure this out if I don't know anything about myself!"

"Please, calm down Miss Granger." He reached across the desk and gently grabbed one of her hands. Behind her Malfoy stiffened and looked away. "Surely you're not giving up hope." She shook her head sadly.

"No Headmaster."

"I suggest you secretly interview your other schoolmates. Surely they will know something that could assist you. If not, send an owl to your parents. I promise you, we will get to the bottom of this. I will not let you down."

"Thank you Headmaster," she said, smiling up at him. He never failed to make her feel better, no matter her mood. "I guess I better get to breakfast while it's still hot. Thank you again for your time."

"Your very welcome, Miss Granger…And Mr. Malfoy."

Draco looked up as if he'd been startled.

"Do try and make the best of your situation. You've explained to me that you two do not like each other much, but in order for you to return to where you belong, you must cooperate. You never know, maybe you'll become friends. Give yourselves a chance."

Once in the hall, Malfoy felt free to express his opinions.

"Friends with a mudblood?" he sneered, giving Hermione a sideways look. "The old man's more bonkers than I thought. Really now, what does he expect? That we fall madly in love and disrupt every timeline? Wacky old coot. I think it's about time this place got a new Headmaster. Someone with a little more sense than a potato."

"You're a foul creature, Malfoy. You know that?"

"Yes, Granger," he said, brushing past her. "I do."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

This will probably be the last update for a while. Wednesday I'm going back to college, and so I'll have a lot less time to write stories. I'll be a busy bee with all my work, but whenever I can I'll work on my fics :) I promise!

Tell me what you think! 


	4. The Yule Ball

Recap:

"You're a foul creature, Malfoy. You know that?"

"Yes, Granger," he said, brushing past her. "I do."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 4: The Yule Ball

"Uh! I can't take this anymore!" Hermione screamed, falling back onto the foot of Malfoy's bed. He sat propped up against his pillows, trying to do some homework. It was the only thing that seemed to keep his mind off their dire situation.

"Take what?" Malfoy mumbled, only half listening.

"We've been here for over a week. And if I have to have one more stupid conversation with a Slytherin I'm going to drown myself in the lake!"

"What'd'you know?" he laughed, lowering his book. "I'm a Slytherin, and I believe this is a conversation."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Why don't you go do your homework? That always seems to shut you up."

"It's done. That's what I've been doing all day. I've already been to the library twice, but I can't really focus on anything with all this other stuff on my mind. Draco," she sighed, rolling over to face him. "We have to figure this out soon. I don't know how much longer I can stay here."

"Well the great news just keeps coming."

"What do you mean?"

"The Yule Ball," he sighed. "Haven't you been paying attention to anything? It's tomorrow night."

"Bloody hell! The Yule Ball!…It's official, my life has reached its lowest point."

"Congratulations, Granger. It's been a whole day since you last complained. A new record."

"Have you been 'interviewing' people, too?"

"Yes, mudblood, I have."

"Have you found out anything new?" she asked hopefully. He shook his head and buried his eyes back in his work. Hermione was already dressed for bed, which meant she wore only loose-fitting green silk pajama bottoms and a tight black cotton tank top. It was more than difficult to keep his eyes off her. "Yeah, me neither. It's hard, you know? We're supposed to already know all this stuff, so we can't just come out and ask. We already look suspicious."

"I'm not the one who has a hard time holding hands in public, Granger. You can't flinch every time I touch you."

"Well I'm sorry if it's a little hard to get used to, Malfoy."

"You think I like it any better?" he snorted.

"You know," she teased, nudging him in the knee. "I'm beginning to think that maybe you do."

"Shove it, mudblood," he snapped. "And by the way, you're sleeping in here tonight."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. The guys keep asking me why you don't sleep in here. They think I'm not getting any, so you're sleeping in here."

"I don't think so, Dragon Boy," she laughed, honestly thinking he was joking. "There's no way I'm getting back in that bed."

"Well I can't come in your room—"

"No, Malfoy. We're not sharing a bed. Period."

"You really do enjoy making this difficult, don't you? Honestly, it's only sleeping next to each other. Believe me, I don't want to touch you."

"Liar," she scoffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" By now he had completely forgotten about his homework.

"You know exactly what I mean. You've done nothing but stare at me since I walked in here. Clearly I don't look as bad as you profess."

"Well if you weren't flaunting yourself around, then maybe I wouldn't stare!"

"Just admit that you're attracted to me."

"Well you're not so innocent of that yourself!" His cheeks were so red Hermione could almost feel the embarrassing heat he was giving off. "I've seen your eyes linger on me a little longer than necessary!"

"I'm comfortable enough to admit that, Malfoy. Yes, you're an attractive man. Hot even, but attraction means nothing to me. You're still a horrid person, and a Slytherin."

Malfoy grunted and sunk low into his pillows.

"Well?"

"Well what?" he snapped.

"Are you going to admit it or not?"

"Well you cover yourself up so much, how am I supposed to know you have a body under there?"

"Good enough," she laughed.

"But that doesn't mean I want to touch you, so technically I wasn't lying."

"Sure thing, Malfoy."

"Granger," he warned, pressing his foot into her side.

"See!" she laughed. She grabbed around his ankle and attacked his foot relentlessly with her fingers. By the time he was able to get free, his books and papers were scattered on the floor around the bed. Without thinking, he sprang up and tackled her, pinning her beneath him on the bed, and it was his turn to tickle her. "Malfoy!" she screamed playfully. "Malfoy, please!"

"Take it back," he said, continuing to assault her slim stomach. "Take it back and I'll stop."

"Never!" But when she tried again to get free, it proved to be impossible. He was simply too heavy and too strong for her. Exhausted, she gave up and squeezed out, "Ok! Ok! Mercy!"

"Are you ever going to say stuff like that again?" he asked, his hands still holding around her waist.

"No," she laughed, the feeling of being tickled still crawling through her.

"Are you sure?" He leaned in, their noses nearly touching, and his hands ready to pounce again.

"I swear," she whispered, the sight of his hypnotizing blue eyes almost too much to bear. She had always thought he was attractive, but, being this close, his warm body pressed to hers, he appeared impossibly gorgeous. His hair fell in his eyes at just the right places, and his lips were so welcoming she almost leaned in. "Mal—"

"Hey Malfoy!" came Goyle's unmistakenable voice as he opened the door. "What time did you say—Shit, sorry man. I'll ask you later." Quickly, he backed out of the room and closed the door, leaving the pseudo couple stunned and a little more than embarrassed.

"Well," Hermione said, sliding off the bed after Malfoy had sprung to his feet at the sound of another's voice. "I guess your goons won't think you're not getting any anymore." She smiled uneasily, biting her lip. She had been so close to kissing him, for real! Any more time here and she would completely lose her mind. "Good night Draco…" She slipped out of the room before he could response, and tiptoed into her own.

Tomorrow night was going to be even worse than she thought.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Oh Hermione!" Pansy squealed, clasping her hands together. "You look absolutely gorgeous! You HAVE to get that one!"

Hermione looked over her reflection in the mirror. They had been here for over an hour picking out a gown for the Yule Ball. Pansy had already purchased hers weeks before, but, ever studious, Hermione waited until the last minute.

It was a deep green silk, with a belled skirt and confining waist. At the top, it dropped off the shoulders, and there were no sleeves. A shimmering pearl necklace that Pansy insisted she try on with the dress adored her neck, as well as pearl colored silk gloves that went to her elbows.

"You think?" Hermione asked, tilting her head to the side. "What about the red one I tried on first? I liked that one."

"Red?" Pansy scoffed, wrinkling her nose. "That's a Gryffindor color. Slytherins do NOT wear red. Besides, you look much better in this one. Trust me."

"Really?"

"Of course, 'Mione. And Draco will love it too. You know how wild he gets for you when you wear green."

"Draco, right…" she sighed. She couldn't, for the life of her, get last night out of her head. All day it had been plaguing her, and, whenever she saw him, she couldn't get the image of their entwined lips out of her mind. She had to constantly remind herself that she was with Ron, and would be back with him any day now. But, the more time she had with her thoughts, the more she wondered if Malfoy was thinking about it too.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" She turned around and faced her 'friend', smiling apprehensively.

"What are you thinking about? You're all spellbound."

"I...err…Draco?"

"Well, yeah," Pansy laughed. "What about him?"

"Pansy," she said, her fingers fumbling with the expensive pearls at her neck. She would buy fakes for the outfit. As it was she was spending more than she should. "Do you remember when me and Draco first got together?"

"Remember? How could I forget? You and Weasley landed in detention for weeks."

"Ron Weasley?" she baulked. "What-What…What exactly do you remember about it?"

"I was late coming out of dinner that night, so I didn't see everything."

"What did you see?" Hermione pressed.

"Why are you asking me this? Hermione, you know I only saw McGonagall and Snape separate you and Weasley. You and him and Draco are the only ones who know what really happened."

"Sorry," she laughed uneasily, turning back to the mirror. "I forgot about that…Now, where should I go for fake pearls?"

"Fake pearls? Right, 'Mione. Like Lucius would ever let his future daughter-in-law wear fake pearls."

"L-L-Lucius?" she stuttered. "As in Draco's father?"

"Of course! He paid for your gowns and accessories at the Yule Balls the last three times. Why wouldn't he this time? Just have them bill him like last always. Honestly 'Mione, I'm beginning to think you're losing your wits."

"Why did you call me his daughter-in-law, Pan? Draco and I are not engaged."

"Not yet. Come on, there's no way he won't ask you. You're being paranoid. You're practically part of his family anyway. I mean, where else would you go for Christmas?"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Did you hear a word I just said, Draco?" Hermione snapped. She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her.

"No," he admitted, as he examined himself in the mirror. His suit looked great, but there was just something missing. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"Come on, listen to me!"

"You said something about my father. What?"

"Draco, your father bought this dress," she said, almost frantically. "And these pearls. Pansy said we're practically engaged, and that I'm considered part of your family."

"And?"

"And! Draco! You're not hearing me!"

"I'm hearing you perfectly clear, Granger. But I don't see what this has to do with anything!"

"There's a reason I'm a Slytherin here. My parents are not dead, and I do not live with foster parents."

"And you have proof of this?"

"No," she admitted, lowering her eyes. "But I will. I'm going to speak with Dumbledore at the ball. Surely he knows the truth."

"Wonderful," Malfoy sighed, completely bored with her prattling. "Are you done now?"

"Yes," she sneered, turning on her heels. "I'll meet you in the common room when you're done beautifying yourself."

Before he could come up with a comeback, she was already out the door.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Not five minutes after they entered the Great Hall, Hermione had ditched Malfoy and went in search of Professor Dumbledore. Slightly more than embarrassed, Malfoy sat at the nearest table with Slytherins, promising himself that he would curse her before they went back.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said as she approached him with a group of teachers. "And might I say you look lovely in that gown."

"Thank you Headmaster," she said, blushing. "Would it be alright if I had a private word with you?"

"Of course." He excused himself from the facility members, and followed Hermione into the hall.

"I've come across some rather disturbing news, sir," she said, getting directly to the point.

"And what news is this?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"Pansy Parkinson told Malfoy that my real parents were dead and that I live with muggle foster parents. This can't be true, I mean—"

"Of course it is not true, Miss Granger," he assured her. She gave way to a great sigh of relief. "But the reason she thinks this I cannot know. Perhaps further investigation would help. Forgive me for not being of more assistance."

"No, no, Headmaster. You've helped me very much. I was mainly concerned for my parents."

"Then I'm glad I could be of service."

"Thank you. You've been really great to me since I told you what I did. I thought for sure you would have been angry."

"Miss Granger," he sighed, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I have been waiting for you to come to me with your…problems for a long while. And while I know you are not the Hermione I knew, I am still very grateful that you felt comfortable enough to come to me."

"Hermione!" came the excited voice of Pansy. A second later she came barreling into the hall, out of breath.

"What?" Hermione asked, grabbing her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down.

"It's Draco! I'm so sorry! So, so sorry! He—" She looked over at Dumbledore suddenly, as if she had only just noticed him. "Headmaster, could you—"

"Yes, of course Miss Parkinson. Good evening ladies."

Pansy waited until he was completely out of sight before she continued.

"Hermione, please don't hate me for telling you this."

"What, Pansy? I'm listening." She was a little more than annoyed at her apprehension.

"I saw him kissing another girl in the hall when I left to go to the bathroom. And I gave him a right good earful too."

"I…er…" She had absolutely no idea how to respond. Of course she was not angry, why would she be? But then she was supposed to like him. "Who…Who was it?" she asked, conjuring up her best sad voice. She prayed it was convincing enough.

"I don't know her name. She's a Ravenclaw fifth year, I think. I'm so sorry, Hermione."

When Pansy tried to pull her into a consoling hug, Hermione brushed her off.

"Sorry," she sighed. "I just…I need to be alone right now…If anyone asks I felt sick and went back to my room."

"I understand completely. And don't you worry, I'll be sure to make Draco's night miserable. No one hurts my best friend and gets away with it."

"Thanks, Pan."

When Hermione was sure she was gone, she let out the laughter she had been holding in and headed off to the Slytherin common room. She would have to thank Malfoy when she saw him again. Now that he had ruined their 'relationship', they would no longer have to pretend to be a couple in public.

She was just about to round the corner, when she was pulled back and into someone's arms. With their hand over her mouth she could not scream, and instead opted to kick her captor in the shin.

"Damn it, Granger!" Malfoy hissed, pushing her away. "What the hell was that for!"

"Cheating on me," she snorted with a smirk. "What do you want?"

"I'm not staying at that dumb ball if you're not."

"Why not? I doubt we should be dating after that little stunt you pulled. Nice, by the way. I should have thought of that."

"I didn't kiss her!" he protested, startling her with his fervor. "She kissed me. I almost had her off when Parkinson showed up and got the wrong idea."

"Whatever. I don't care about the details. She saw and that's all that matters. Why are you so worked up about it?"

"Because," he sighed, unintentionally grabbing her arm. "I spoke with my father after you left me in my room before the ball. Apparently our relationship, or what-have-you, is very important for my family."

"And that matters to me because…?"

"Hermione!"

"What!"

"They were Death Eaters before I met you. But something changed in them when we started going together, and I am not—for the sake of your sanity or my own—going to jeopardize their future! Who knows how this time thing works. But if these…universes, or whatever, both exist—if I can save my parents in this time—then I will do anything to do that!"

"But I thought you were proud of your father." It was the only thing she could think to say. It was the first time since she'd known him that he'd shown concern for someone other than himself.

"Proud?" he laughed cynically, finally releasing her arm. "Would you be?"

"No, but I'm not like you Draco. I—"

"Go on," he sighed. "Say it. You're not evil."

"I don't think you're evil."

"I think being proud of Death Eater parents constitutes as evil," he snapped angrily. "How else am I supposed to act around them? If I say one wrong thing, one negative thing about him or my mother, then my life could be at risk. Do you have any idea what that feels like, Granger?"

"Draco, I'm—"

"Yes, you're sorry. Everyone is sorry. And that's supposed to make everything better, right?"

"I never—"

"Well it doesn't!" he yelled, clenching his fists tightly at his sides. It took all his willpower to keep from punching the stone wall beside him. "Dumbledore is always giving me these looks, like he pities me. Even Snape does it! But their pity doesn't do a damn thing, Hermione! I still have to pretend! Why do you think it was so easy for me to pretend here? I've done it all my life. I—"

"Draco, please!" she pleaded, pulling him to her. She knew comfort was the last thing he wanted, but it was the only thing she could think to do. "Please," she whispered, stroking the back of his head. He trembled uncontrollably in her arms, but she knew he would not cry, even if he wanted to. "I'm not going to tell you that everything is alright. You hear that enough. But you can't let your parents' mistakes run your life. You are not destined to be them. You can change your life when you leave here. Become something better."

"They'd find me."

"You're strong enough to fight back, Draco. I know you are."

"Right," he grunted. "My childish tantrum just proved my strength."

"Draco," she sighed. She pulled her head back and looked directly into his eyes. "You don't have to listen to a word I said. But just know—" She paused, trying to sort her words out. "—no matter what's happened, I will help you if you need me. No one deserves—" But she was cut off suddenly, as Malfoy captured her lips for their first real kiss.

"You didn't kick me this time," he said, his forehead pressed against hers.

"You didn't give me a reason to this time…"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Romance for our couple! Wee!...But will it last?? I'm not telling! Muhaha!

Review, please! :) Or no more chapters! :o

Heeheeheeeeeeeee! 


	5. The Malfoys

Recap:

"You didn't kick me this time," he said, his forehead pressed against hers.

"You didn't give me a reason to this time…"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 5: The Malfoys

Hermione awoke the following morning to an empty bed and a warm space by her side. Last night had been so perfect, and yet nothing profound, save the kiss, had occurred. They returned to the dormitory, changed for bed, and crawled beneath the covers. For nearly two hours she pushed him to tell her about his family, in their time; what it was like to live with them, what he planned to do when they expected him to follow in their footsteps, what he would have wanted had he the choice.

"To stay here," he had said, after having been quiet for so long. It was the only question he would acknowledge, the only one he had any real answer to.

He had only tried to kiss her again once. Their lips had almost touched, or perhaps they had, but instantly Hermione pulled away. She shrunk low against him, her head resting on his chest, and whispered a goodnight. And, to her complete surprise, he had obliged her and didn't make another move.

Now he was in the bathroom. And she was left alone with her thoughts. It didn't take her long to settle on Ron. The tears welled, her lips trembled, and her body shuddered. He was her boyfriend, and here she was, sleeping in a bed with another boy, who she had willingly kissed. A boy she, as well as Ron and Harry, had despised since almost the moment they met first year.

After she left the Yule Ball, and Malfoy had chased her down, her emotions had been so befuddled. Seeing Ron pressed close to another woman, whispering into her ear as she giggled; it was all too much to bear. They appeared to be genuinely in love, and she was utterly miserable and jealous; she hated being jealous.

In the heat of their kiss, she had thought of Ron, hating him for being with Parvati, her anger overshadowing the fact that he was not the same Ron she knew and remembered, and that her Ron, the Ron back in her time, did not deserve her infidelity. That was the Ron she thought of now, the one she cried for.

"What are you blubbering about now, Granger?"

Hermione looked up, her cheeks streaked with tears.

"Well?"

"What do you think, Malfoy?"

"Not this time stuff again," he sighed. He waved his wand and his once dripping hair was completely dry. He wore only a towel, but Hermione was far too upset to notice. "We're going to figure it out. Calm the hell down."

"Not that you moron!" she snapped. "Malfoy, were you in a coma last night?"

"Oh…That."

"Yes," she said through her teeth. "That!"

"You're not going to get all clingy and think we're actually together, Granger? Because, to be blunt, I've never hated you more."

"Well I'm glad we can agree on that. But that's not the point, Malfoy. You have to promise me that this will only stay between us. No one can know!"

"If you think I want other people to know, then I think we need to get your head examined."

"I love Ron," she said, as if making a point of it.

"That's wonderful, Granger. I'll be vomiting now."

"Malfoy?" she said, just before he went back into the bathroom.

"What?" he groaned, not turning around.

"Am I going home with you for Christmas?" (A/N: In this fic, the Yule Ball is a few days before Christmas)

"Come again?"

"Yesterday," she said, biting her lip nervously. "When Pansy and I were in the dress shop. She said I was practically part of the family. She said…she said I always go home with you on holidays."

"Perfect," he practically growled, gritting his teeth. "Our situation just keeps getting better, doesn't it?"

"You're going to check with your father?"

He walked back into the bathroom, ignoring her completely. Clearing the steam with his wand, he stared hard at his reflection, willing it to tell him the deep unknowns. Why this particular alternate reality? Why him and Granger? Why—?

He cast his eyes down, gripping the edge of the sink. Why had he wanted to kiss her so badly? Why did he still want to? Why was it all he could do to not think about her folded against him, submissive and wanting? If he didn't watch it, they would have a lot more than a kiss to not speak of.

With a heavy sigh, he set out to finish getting ready. And then he would contact his father and find out exactly what was going on.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione thought long and hard as she stared at herself in the full-length mirror of her bedroom. Normally, she did not care about such trivial things as how she looked or what she wore, but the prospect of "meeting" Malfoy's family sent searing pains through her temples. Of course she had met Lucius Malfoy some time ago, but, according to Draco, this was a completely different man, one who—to use Pansy's words—adored her.

One thing was good about this trip, however. She would not have to deal with Pansy for the next week or so. Yesterday had certainly tried her patience, almost to the breaking point.

Pansy had taken it upon herself to tell the entire school that Hermione and Malfoy had broken up because Malfoy kissed another girl. For the whole day, Hermione did nothing but squash the "rumors" and set the story straight. Malfoy did NOT kiss another girl; on the contrary, she kissed him and he tried to ward her off. When asked how she could know this, she explained that she stole ingredients and concocted a Truth Serum. It wasn't until dinnertime that everything was back to normal.

Well, she thought, hearing a knock at the door, as normal as things around here could get.

"Come in," she called, turning away from the mirror.

"Are you almost ready Granger?"

"Good morning to you too, Draco," she sighed. "Does this look ok?"

"Does what?"

"My outfit."

"Since when—?"

"Just answer the question."

He eyed her for a moment, then shrugged. In truth, however, he thought she looked unbelievable, and, for the life of him, he could not figure exactly why. She wore an ordinary pair of jeans, black snow boots, a plain white tee shirt, and a loose-fitting dark green thigh-length sweater. Her hair was down and framed her face perfectly. He had no idea how he was going to get through their time here without touching her again.

"Come on," he said after a moment. "My parents will be here to get us in ten minutes."

Hermione lowered her head and nodded.

"What now? Honestly, Hermione, you have more problems than anyone I know."

"I'm nervous about meeting your parents, ok? Can you blame me? The last I knew they were vicious Death Eaters who, if I remember right, did not like muggle-born witches very much."

"Yes, well, as far as they're concerned, you are full-blooded. So act like it."

"What do you mean, act like it? How does someone ACT full-blooded?"

"More and more you prove to me that you're not the genius everyone thinks you are." Hermione's brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, looking almost black. "Just don't mention any muggle shit, Hermione. Alright?"

"If you keep calling me Hermione, Malfoy, I'm going to think you don't hate me as much as you say you do."

"Granger," he warned.

"Very well," she sighed, hefting her duffel bag over her shoulder. "But I still think you could be nice once and awhile."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione's eyes widened and she let out a small inaudible gasp, wanting nothing more than to run back to the dormitory and forget about Christmas. Lucius Malfoy had her wrapped tight in a bear hug, and Draco's mother, Narcissa, was waiting for her turn.

Draco stood back, seemingly disgusted with their behavior. And then Hermione realized something; this was his first time meeting these new parents too! He must have been just as nervous as she was, and here she was being so selfish and instigating with him.

After his parents released her, she went to Draco's side, and put her arm around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Getting bolder, are we Granger?" he said out of the corner of his mouth. His arm went instinctively around her shoulders, holding her closer. She smelled unbelievably wonderful.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She glanced up at him, holding his eyes.

"For what?"

"I—" But there was something in his eyes that made her stop. As if he knew what she would say, and was silently begging her to refrain. "Nevermind."

"Are we ready?"

Draco and Hermione looked up. His parents stood, staring at them, ready to Apparate. They looked at each other, then nodded, and stepped forward, grabbing their hands.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Nice parka," Malfoy laughed as Hermione came out of his bathroom.

"Shut up," she snapped. She wore heavy flannel pajama bottoms with a matching long-sleeved button-up top. "I'm not going to look like a hussy in front of your parents."

"No, you save that for me, huh Granger?"

"Malfoy," she warned. She took an uncomfortable seat on the edge of his bed. She had found out earlier that evening that she and Draco would be sharing a bed, for his parents were very open and understanding. They knew he was not a virgin, and were not uptight like most other parents would be. She had been a little more than shocked. "Do you have to have that fire blazing all night? It's like a sauna in here."

"I like my room like this," he state matter-of-factly.

She rolled her eyes at him, then, to his astonishment, began to unbutton her shirt.

"Hermione!"

"What! I have a shirt on underneath!"

She pealed off the stuffy outer layer, revealing that she only wore a simple white tank top.

"Malfoy!"

"Wh-What?" He looked up at her.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Staring at me. If you can't control your eyes, I'm sleeping on the couch. And you can explain to your parents why."

"Well I wouldn't stare if you would wear real clothes around me."

"You're the one who thinks it's pleasant to sleep in a room that's one hundred degrees!"

"Shut your traps!" came Lucius' annoyed voice through the wall. "Some of us like to sleep at night!"

"Well, come on Granger," Draco said, motioning for her to join him under the covers.

"If you think I'm getting in that bed with you, Malfoy, then you've got some serious problems."

"Granger!" he whispered angrily, throwing the blankets off. He climbed out of bed and grabbed her by the shoulders. For a split second she thought he might strike her. "Did you forget already what I told you? YOU are what is keeping this family from becoming evil. Why would you even entertain the idea of jeopardizing that!"

"That is not my responsibility!" she protested, the hot sting of tears threatening to escape. "If they wanted to be good then they would be good. I refuse to—"

"Hermione!" His voice sounded almost scared now, and pleading. He shook her furiously, then threw her down on the bed. There was no doubt in her mind now that he was very capable of harming her. She scrambled to the head of the bed, curling herself into a tiny ball, one arm outstretched, as if that could ward him off. She was beyond terrified, and completely ashamed that she did not just fight back. Where was the Hermione she knew!

"Draco, please," she whispered. Do not cry! Do NOT cry!

His shoulders sunk and he looked down, as if coming out of a trance. He came over and sat beside her on the bed, pulling her loose from her crumpled position.

"I'm sorry," she cried into her hands.

"You're sorry?" He was a little more than confused. "For what?"

"I know how important the situation is with your parents. I'm being selfish. I want to help them too. I do. I'm sorry…"

Gently, he pulled her hands away from her face, forcing her to make eye contact. And then, as if on cue, they both leaned in, surrendering to a rough and passionate kiss. Draco's fingers wound themselves in her silky brown locks, as he eased her back and deepened the kiss. He almost had her small shirt over her head, when she shrunk back and pulled it down.

"Draco, I-I can't," she whispered. "We can't. This is wrong. We hate each other. We—"

She was silenced immediately as his hot lips made contact with her neck, suckling and nibbling at the taut skin. A soft moan escaped her lips when his teeth found her collarbone; her weak spot.

"Draco," she tried again, this time opting to push him back. "Think about what you're doing, who I am."

He looked directly into her eyes, holding their gaze for a long while. And then he smiled.

"I know where I am," he said. "I know who you are. And I want you."

"But—"

"We're alone, Hermione. No one we know even exists. For all we know we could be here forever."

"But Draco," she sighed. "I love—"

"Weasley, I know," he said rather disgustedly, wrinkling his nose.

"Draco, are you…jealous of Ron and I?"

"He could not possibly know what he has," he snapped. He sat up and smoothed his hair back, completely frustrated and embarrassed.

Hermione's eyes widened. This could not possibly be the same Malfoy she knew. He was softer, and almost…sweet with her.

"I can't sleep with you, Draco," she said, ending the long silence.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" There was a twinkle of the old Malfoy in his big gorgeous eyes.

"That's not the reason."

"I'm not going to force you. Just—" He bent down, his lips inches from hers. "—let me kiss you."

"Draco."

"Hermione," he breathed, brushing some hair out of her eyes so softly that it sent chills through her. He was kissing her before she realized she had nodded. He left a trail of hot kisses down her neck, and over her shirt, until he reached the rim of her pants. He hesitated for a moment, then, very slowly—giving her plenty of time to stop him—he pushed up her tank top and pulled it off.

With agonizing slowness, he kissed her firm flat stomach, relishing in the smoothness of her skin, and the little noises she made at his ministrations.

"Hermione?"

"Y-Yes?"

"You don't want me to stop, do you?"

"Oh Draco," she cried, turning her head into the pillows. "I'm a horrible person!"

"Compared to who?" he asked. He came up along side her, pulling her small body against his. "Not me." He kissed her forehead and pulled the blankets up to cover her bare chest.

"Why do I want you?" she whimpered, her tears large and uncontrollable. "I hate you. Why—Why?"

"I was never around you long enough to know you," he said softly. "I regret that."

"Who are you?"

"I'm not evil, Hermione. I don't want to be evil. I'm—"

"Trapped?" she offered, her tears subsiding.

"Yeah," he sighed, pulling her just a little tighter. "Yeah…"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Holy crap! Wow! That was completely unexpected! Seriously, I did not know I was going to do that until I just wrote it. It was unplanned, but I hope you all liked it. I hope I didn't move things along too quickly. And don't worry! There will be much explanation later.

PLEASE REVIEW!!!

Oh, and not to burst everyone's bubble, but Malfoy's niceness is not going to last much longer :P 


	6. The Volatile Draco Malfoy

(To answer SupernovaPhoebe's question: No, Hermione and Draco did not have sex. She loves Ron, not matter how much she wants Malfoy. Or does she? Muhahaha! :P)

Recap:

"I'm not evil, Hermione. I don't want to be evil. I'm—"

"Trapped?" she offered, her tears subsiding.

"Yeah," he sighed, pulling her just a little tighter. "Yeah…"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 6: The Volatile Draco Malfoy

Draco awoke to the soothing feeling of warm rays of sun on his face. He stretched his limbs, then bolted upright, looking around the room frantically. Last night could not have been a dream! But Hermione was nowhere in sight, and where she had slept there was no impression, no evidence.

Quickly, he pulled on his heavy soft green robe, and set out to find her. This search did not take long, however, for almost the moment he stepped foot into the hall, he heard her gentle, yet quite loud, laugh drift to his ears. He surmised that she must be in the kitchen, and practically ran down the stairs, around the corner, down a long hall, and through a set of beautifully lacquered black double doors. With no hesitation, he pushed them open.

"Draco!" she called, the sinful laugh still behind her voice. She jumped from her seat at the kitchen table, which his family never used, and clamored into his arms. His father sat reading the Daily Prophet, and chuckling lightly to himself, presumably about what had given Hermione fits of laughter. His mother was not there, but he could hear her giggling in the adjoining dining room.

"What the hell is so funny?" he demanded. He shoved Hermione away, giving her a hard glare, and took a seat at the table. Confused, she sat back down, trying unsuccessfully to catch his eyes.

"Your father and I were just talking about you," she said, deciding to ignore his change in behavior for now. She would ask him later, when they were alone. "You never told me you used to like Professor Dumbledore so much."

"What are you babbling about? I never—"

Hermione held out her hand, a small figurine of Albus Dumbledore standing patiently on her palm.

Draco growled in the back of his throat, and smacked the toy to the floor. Suddenly he was glad he had not woken up next to her, and had equal conviction about not wanting any breakfast. Without so much as a glance in Hermione's direction, he shoved back his chair and hurried out of the room.

"Having a tiff?" Lucius asked over his paper.

"Dunno," she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "He's been cranky lately." She was halfway out of her chair, when Narcissa's hands gently pushed her back down.

"Let him cool off, dear. He'll come around by lunchtime."

Hermione sighed and nodded. Truthfully, she had not wanted to seek him out, but rather wanted to get away from his parents. Yes, she had been the one to come downstairs without Draco and engage in conversation with them. But now, having allowed the situation to sink in, she realized who she was having such a good time with, and it was a little more than terrifying. In another life these people wanted her best friend's head on a stake.

If I don't need therapy after this, she thought, I'll consider myself a winner.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You know," Hermione said, sitting on Draco's bed and watching him as he got ready. He pretended she wasn't there. "If I didn't know better, Draco, I'd say you had your period."

He stopped dead in his tracks, his shirt halfway over his head. Annoyed, he tugged it all the way on, and walked back to his closet for a sweater.

"Crankiness. Mood swings. It all fits. Is there something you're not telling me?" She threw her head back and laughed, clinging to the bedpost as if she needed it for support. That morning when she got up, seeing him sleeping peacefully beside her, she had decided that she was going to make the best of her time here. There was no point in stressing herself out over something she could not have prevented and could not fix. So, while she constantly tried to figure out how to get back, she was going to enjoy herself. And Malfoy just happened to be the perfect tool for amusement.

"Yes," he hissed. He jerked on his deep green sweater as if he had a score to settle with it, and glared heatedly at his pseudo girlfriend. "You are the most annoying witch I have ever had the displeasure of meeting!"

"No," she laughed. "I believe you've told me that before." She slipped off the bed and came towards him, wrapping her arms suggestively around his neck. He winced as if she'd struck him and shrugged her off. But she was having far too much fun to stop there. "Come now, Draco. Where is the semi-human I fell asleep with last night?"

"What's gotten into you, Granger? Last night you barely let me touch you—and let me assure you, I regret that completely—and now you act as though you couldn't be happier to be in this damn situation. And don't call me Draco!"

Hermione's smile faded, and she stared at him with a renewed hatred. She reminded herself to be grateful that she had not given into lust the night before. But in the end her anger won out, and, before he could react, she reached out and slapped him hard across the face.

"You really do enjoy making my life completely miserable, don't you?"

He hesitated a moment, then nodded. And again he could not prevent the assault on his cheek.

"You're not evil, are you!" she bellowed, her fists clenched unbelievably tight at her sides. It took all of her willpower to keep from striking him again. "You don't want to be evil, huh! You're good somewhere deep down and I just can't see it! Is that the crap you'll feed me next, Malfoy!" Her vision blurred, and she wiped furiously at her tears. She was so angry she didn't care that she was crying again. "And I was foolish enough to believe that you could actually become someone! I was beginning to think that there was good in you! I—" Her voice dropped and she took a deep breath. "I pity you, Malfoy."

"Stop crying, Granger," was all he could put into words. But it was nowhere near what he wanted to say.

"Someone has to cry for you. I know no one else will."

He opened his mouth to retort, to challenge her words, but inside he came forward and pressed his lips to hers. For a split second he thought it might work, that she would stop yelling and he would no longer feel that throbbing pain in his gut. But she pushed him back and he received his third slap in the same place.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but in the real world kissing doesn't solve everything! And certainly not the problems we have! Let's just stick to hating each other. It did more good than we knew."

She turned sharply on her heel and trudged towards the door.

"Hermione, wait!"

"Hermione!" she hissed, stopping short in the doorway. She looked at him over her shoulder, a cynical smile playing on her lips. Yet inside she was slowly coming undone. Now, more than ever, she was confused about the boy named Draco Malfoy. But, what hurt her more than anything, was that she knew that she did not truly hate him as she had always been convinced. She did not like him by any means, but she certainly did not hate him. "Listen to me, Malfoy, and listen good. I refuse to spend another moment here upset, sad, angry, or hurt. And, since you are the cause of any and all of my pain, I do not want to be around you unless absolutely necessary. When we get back to Hogwarts, I'm burying myself in books in the library. If we can't figure out when our timeline changed, then I will find another way back."

He was about to speak, but opted instead to keep his comments to himself.

"What?" she snapped. "Say it."

"No," he sighed. He bowed his head and turned away.

"Malfoy, tell me right now—"

"No," he said again, this time a little more sternly. "If I tell you, then you'll forgive me, and if you forgive me, then I won't be able to forgive myself, so just leave it like this. You're right, it is better that we hate each other."

"Alright," she agreed hesitantly. "I'll see you at lunch."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After not speaking to each other for two days, and with Christmas the following day, tensions were about where they should be; high. Around Malfoy's parents they acted as boyfriend and girlfriend should, cuddling on the couch in front of the fireplace, sitting extra close at meals; but when the time came for them to go to bed, Hermione would grab a pillow from the bed and curl into a ball in front of his fireplace.

Christmas Eve at Malfoy Manor was nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, it was quite quiet and laid back. For most of the day, they entertained both sides of the family, having a rather large lunch, and exchanged some presents. Hermione had been nervous to meet so many relatives of Draco, but, at the same time, she welcomes any excuse to get away from him.

By seven o'clock all the guests had gone, and it was only Draco, his parents, and Hermione in the den, enjoying a warm crackling fire and large mugs of creamy cocoa. His parents sat on the bigger of the two couches, Narcissa's head in her husbands lap, as they talked quietly. Hermione and Draco were squeezed close on the loveseat; she absently read one of her schoolbooks, while he stared into the fire, as if captivated by it.

"Hermione," he whispered into her ear, which was only an inch or so from his lips, for in the spirit to looking like a couple, she was leaned against him, one arm draped over his knee. Her trick was pretending he was an uncomfortable chair.

"Yes?" she murmured, subconsciously wanting to jab the corner of her book into his forehead.

"We need to talk." The emotion in his voice caught her off guard, and she turned, looking him in the eye.

"About?"

He frowned deeply and looked away, mumbling an almost inaudible, "Us."

She grabbed his face roughly, squeezing his cheeks. "Come again?"

"I said," he said through his teeth, "us. As in me and you."

"The fictional us?" she asked, her voice so low his parents couldn't have heard had they wanted to, and had not been so deep in conversation.

"No." His voice was almost angry now. If he didn't make some sense soon, he would have her book permanently affixed to his forehead. "The real us."

"There is no "real" us, Malfoy."

"Let me say what I need to say."

"Then?"

"Then you can go back to ignoring me if you want. But hear me out."

"Give me one good reason why I should. Hell," she laughed. "Give me one bad one."

"If you want to know what I have to say, then let me talk to you before we go to sleep."

"You're not very good at this convincing thing, Malfoy. I don't care what you have to tell me. Incase you haven't noticed, these past few days have been heaven to me. What you have to say will no doubt turn them back into hell."

"It's what I wanted to say the other night," he offered, slowly slipping his hand over hers. She allowed this, but only because his parents were in the same room. "When we had that fight. Remember?"

"Yes, I remember," she hissed, glaring at him.

"And?"

"Fine," she sighed. "You win. But if I don't like what you have to say, I don't want it mentioned again, and we go right back to the way things are now. Got it?"

He nodded solemnly and stood to leave. In truth, he really did not want to have this conversation with her. In fact, he was dreading it. But, the prospect of what it could create, was simply too tempting. In their time in their alternate universe, he had come to realize many things about himself, and about Hermione.

Their lives could never be the same.

"Good night," he said loud enough for his parents to hear, and kissed Hermione on the cheek.

"Night," she said back, her emotions teetering between anger, confusion, and curiosity. She prayed that whatever he had to say did not disrupt their stay anymore than it already had been. She had a feeling that no amount of praying could help her.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Almost a half an hour later Hermione stood before Malfoy, who sat on his bed, his hands clawed tightly around his knees; they were both already dressed for bed. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was nervous. Eliminating that possibility, she pushed the conversation.

"What do you need to tell me, Malfoy?"

"Need?" he said softly, a hint of a cynical chuckle behind his voice. She already regretted coming up here. "No, you would be much better off if you did not know."

"Let me be the judge of that," she said rather forcefully. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and cleared her throat. "So, as I was saying, what's this about?"

"You have to believe me, no matter what I say or how bizarre its guaranteed to sound."

"That's my choice, Malfoy. Just tell me. I'm tired of playing this game."

He smiled inwardly at her comparison. Yes, they had been playing a game. What she didn't know, however, was that it had started long before their time-travel mishap.

"How long have we known each other?" he asked.

"Too long," she replied harshly.

"I deserved that…" he said under his breath.

"Yes, you did. And a hell of a lot more."

"I don't hate you, Hermione." Her eyes snapped on his, questioning his statement. "I never did."

"Right," she laughed. "And I suppose mudblood is an endearing term amongst witches and wizards. Honestly, Malfoy, you'll have to do better than that."

"It's true, and you don't believe me, but I expected that. Mudblood is used by dark families of purebloods who despise mixed witches and wizards. Dark families like mine."

"Go on."

"I was conditioned to hate whoever my family hated. Therefore, I hated you. Or so I let myself believe."

"Get to the point!"

"I hated you because I hated myself for liking you!"

The anger left Hermione's eyes, and she lowered her shoulders and head simultaneously.

"And by like you mean—"

"You know what I mean," he spat, as if she'd offended him.

"Draco—"

"Ever since we got here my brain has been scrambled! I can't tell up from down, and you have been right there, mocking me! I could avoid you in the other world, but not here! You've ruined my life!"

"If you had a choice," she began, choosing her words carefully, "would you choose to know what that thing did and prevent this from happening?"

"Would you?" he countered, crossing his arms over his chest. But, as angry as he was, he did not regret telling her.

"Yes and no," she admitted, much to his amazement. "Everything was perfect for me in our reality. I had Ron, I was Head Girl, my academics were going perfectly. But if we hadn't come here, I wouldn't have been able to get to know you like this, and I would have continued to hate you unjustly…So, would you?"

"No," he said without thought. "Its my life that's perfect here. Or at least the life of my other self. Just knowing that is worth it all."

"And our relationship?"

He looked up at her as if she'd just sprouted another head.

"Friendship," she corrected, a deep blush painting her cheeks.

"What about it? It can't continue, if it's anything at all, when we go back."

"I know…" It surprised her that the thought saddened her this much. She took a few careful steps forward and sat next to him. "Is it alright if I come back to bed? My back's starting to hurt from sleeping on the floor."

A devious smirk spread across his features.

"Only if I can ravish you until you're numb from head to toe."

"How about some decently positioned cuddling instead, friend?"

He sighed, rolling his eyes, then surprised her completely by tackling her to the bed. By the time she was able to get his clawing fingers away from her sensitive belly, she was in tears from laughing so hard.

"That, Mr. Malfoy, was uncalled for. Now come here. Your punishment is keeping me warm all night."

Almost immediately after they were situated, in the spooning position, he heard the soft sound of her slumbering breathing. Gently, he kissed her forehead and got comfortable. If he didn't fall in love with her by the end of all this, then he doubted he would ever fall in love.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Well, not all that much happened, but at the same time, a lot did! Haha! Does that make sense? :P I hope so!

REVIEW!!!!!!!! 


	7. Ron’s Revelation

Recap:

"That, Mr. Malfoy, was uncalled for. Now come here. Your punishment is keeping me warm all night."

Almost immediately after they were situated, in the spooning position, he heard the soft sound of her slumbering breathing. Gently, he kissed her forehead and got comfortable. If he didn't fall in love with her by the end of all this, then he doubted he would ever fall in love.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 7: Ron's Revelation

Hermione held Draco's hand tightly as they Apparated back to Hogwarts. Of course she was not scared. There were other thoughts fighting for top priority in her mind. Since Christmas Eve, she and Draco had been "acting" so much like a couple, that she almost forgot about Ron. Suppressing every impulse in her being, she had refrained from any inappropriate physical contact with Malfoy. Last night, the night before returning to school, something had occurred to her. If she did not reestablish her true self, she would become completely lost in this alternate world. And when they did finally return, her life would be ever more of a mess than it was now.

So, after staying up nearly half the night, Malfoy asleep peacefully beside her, she had decided to make a drastic move. As soon as she could, she was going to confront Ron and try to speak to him in private. She knew this would most likely not work, if he even acknowledged her at all, but she had to try. He was the only one who held the key to her and Draco's "relationship", a piece of the puzzle that she could not simply ignore.

When they reached the Slytherin common room some ten minutes later, his parents long gone, she confessed her plans. His reaction was startling to say the least.

"That is a horrible idea, Hermione!" he snapped, stepping away from her. "You can't go near him!"

"And why not! What harm will it do?"

His face reddened considerably and he crossed his arms rigidly over his broad chest. "Well…Look what happened with Potter. He blew up in your face. Weasley will do the same, no doubt. Its ridiculous."

"That's not the reason, and you know it," she countered. She saw right through him, and he was completely jealous. "Nothing short of a little information could possibly come from my speaking with him, Draco. He hates me in this world, as I suppose I hate him. He probably won't even talk to me, so stop being jealous!"

"I have nothing to be jealous about!"

"Exactly," she hissed through her teeth. "We are nothing but pretend—PRETEND!—So drop the attitude and stop telling me what to do!"

She regretted her words immediately, but nothing she could think to say would keep him from leaving the room, and so she let him storm out, shoving several underclassmen aside in his wake. For the past four days, they had been so happy with one another. He had confessed his feelings for her, against his better judgment she figured, and she had just thrown it back in his face. She had called what they had pretend, and, while half of that was true, she did not consider their newly formed friendship pretend. She hoped that after he had cooled down, she would be able to apologize and reason with him.

But right now she needed to see Ron, even if he did hate her. Because, to her, the information regarding her and Draco was crucial. Perhaps it held the key to their return. Or, if not, perhaps Ron would divulge some other information that she could use. If not now, then maybe later, if she could establish some kind of trust between them.

With that in mind, she set out to the Great Hall for dinner. She knew Draco would not join her, no matter what she said.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione stood concealed behind a statue in the corridor outside the Great Hall. She had left dinner early in order to scout out everyone who passed. As of now, she had not seen Ron, Parvati, Harry, or—thankfully—Pansy. But she was determined to remain patient.

A group of Gryffindor first year girls came barreling out of the Great Hall, giggling madly as if having just encountered the object of their desires. But then, as the next two people exited, she realized that her blind assumptions had been true. Harry and Ron, minus any girl counterparts, came laughing out of the Hall. She cursed Harry for being with him, but, just as she was about to give up hope, Ginny Weasley approached them, and accompanied Harry back into the Great Hall, leaving Ron completely alone.

Hermione sighed with relief, and waited until the coast was clear. She followed him with expert quietness until he was almost to the moving staircases. Right before he passed through the doorway, she grabbed his arm and pulled him into a vacant corridor.

He was not pleased, to say the least.

"Do you have a problem, Granger?" he snapped. The tone of his voice was chilling enough. But the fact that he referred to her the same way Malfoy did was the worst part. "I thought high-and-mighty Slytherins didn't associate themselves with Gryffindors."

"Ron, please—"

"Ron!" he baulked. "Since when are we on a first name basis?"

"Please, just hear me out. I'm begging you!" No one could ever know how agonizing this was for her. She was so close to him, she could smell his hair, feel his breath; if she could have chosen when to die, there was no doubt in her mind that it would be this moment.

"Give me one good reason."

"I'm not the Hermione you think you know. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm from a completely different…realm."

"You're right," he scoffed. "It does sound crazy. No matter what realm, WE do not speak."

"I know things about you, things only your closest friends would know. Things probably only Harry knows. I…I used to be your friend."

"You're really enjoying yourself with these wild stories, aren't you Granger?"

"You used to have a rat named Scabbers—"

"Anyone could tell you that."

"—but he wasn't a rat." Ron's eyes widened just the smallest bit. No. She couldn't know. No one but Harry and the Order knew about that. "He was an Animagus, and his name was Peter Pettigrew. He betrayed Harry's parents, and Sirius Black was innocent."

For several long minutes Ron was completely silent. And then, very slowly, his eyes narrowed into a look of such pure hatred she doubted she had ever looked at Malfoy that way.

"I don't know where you heard that, but that is not something you go shooting off about in the corridors!" He was more than vivid. If there was no consequence, he might have killed her. "Who told you!"

"I already told you how I know, Ron. I knew you and Harry in my world. A few weeks ago I found this device in the castle. It accidentally brought me here. Like a Time Turner, only it isn't time, its reality."

"If that's true, then why didn't you try to talk to me or Harry until now? How did you know you were in another dimension or whatever?"

"I didn't come here alone," she sighed. "And I did try to talk to Harry. The day after I arrived. He…He looked like he wanted to hit me when I came up to him."

"Who did you come with?" he asked sarcastically.

"Malfoy."

"If you and Harry and I are friends in your backwards world, then what were you doing with Malfoy?"

"He and I were the Heads."

Ron let out a roaring laugh.

"That's rich, Granger. You and Malfoy Heads. I can believe you're from another dimension before I believe that."

"You have to believe me! I've been stuck with Malfoy for the past month! I don't know if we can ever go back! And I need your help. Please. If you just tell me one thing, I'll never speak to you again. I swear."

"What?" he sighed. If it would ensure avoiding moments like this in the future, than he was up for it.

"What happened the day Malfoy and I started dating in this world? Pansy said you were involved. We got detention for something, she said."

"That was years ago," he said contemplatively. "How can't you know, you were—"

"No, I wasn't there. For the sake of this conversation, please believe what I said was true. Pretend I'm not Hermione."

"Easier said than done," he scoffed.

"Ron, please."

"Fine," he sighed. "But stop calling me Ron."

"Fair enough."

"We were the only ones left in the Great Hall," he said, gazing at a distant point as he tried to recall the memory.

"What year were we in?"

"Second."

Hermione withheld her astonishment. She and Malfoy had been dating for five years!

"We didn't hate either other yet, BUT we by no means liked each other either. You were my assigned partner in Transfiguration, so I came over to you to ask you something. You were really friendly with me, like we were friends. You kept—" He swallowed hard. "—touching me. My arm. And…giggling."

Hermione blushed deeply. She had done so much of that stuff with Ron. Little hints that had taken him until seventh year to realize.

"You were about to say something, when Malfoy came up to us and pulled you away. He started screaming at you for talking to me. He raised his arm to hit you, but I blocked him." It was Ron's turn to blush. "So he started to yell at me, and you yelled at him to stop…He punched me in the face, so I punched him back. But then you took a swing at him, and that was when McGonagall and Snape walked in. They saw us 'attacking' Malfoy, so they dragged us out."

"That doesn't make any sense," Hermione practically demanded. "Pansy made it sound like me and you were having a row. Why would I date Malfoy if he was going to hit me?"

"That's how things worked out," he said with a shrug. "The next day I saw you and him holding hands."

"But how did I start…hating you? I mean, I can see why you might resent me, but it sounds to me like I liked you."

"Yeah, when someone gets crushed, they don't usually take it very well."

"I must have liked you," she sighed, fighting back tears. "I don't see how I couldn't, I mean…I…I…" But there was nothing she could do to make the words come. She crouched low to the ground, head in her hands, and sobbed quietly.

Ron couldn't imagine being in a more awkward position. Hermione Granger, a girl who he had hated and had hated him for nearly five years, was sitting at his feet, bawling her eyes out. If he didn't comfort her he would be just as cruel as her and Malfoy. But, if he did, then what would he be?

With a heavy sigh, he went against the mutual Gryffindor/Slytherin pact, and kneeled beside her and placed his hand uneasily on her back.

"What?" he asked, trying to see her face. No matter what he would always think she was the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen. "You what?"

"I love you," she whispered, her voice strained and almost inaudible. "In my reality me and you are dating. We're in love. And I'm so scared right now." Her voice was trembling. Should he hug her? Comfort her more? He decided that he should. And, when he did, he couldn't help the satisfied sigh; he loved her too. He had loved her since first year. And he cursed anyone he could think of that kept them apart.

"Why are you scared?" He would say anything to keep from feeling this way; hurt, alone, in despair. She loved him! Oh, if only he could punch Malfoy again.

"I'm afraid I'll never get back. I'll be stuck here, forever, and I'll never be with you again."

"Hermione, this is so weird. I…I can't comprehend it."

"You're a wizard, aren't you?"

"Yes…"

"So what is so surprising? We can time travel. We can do anything. This is no different…Only I wish it never existed."

"I do," he admitted, turning his head away.

"Why?"

"I want to live in your reality. I…Hermione, I have been hiding my feelings for you since as long as I can remember."

"But I'm a Slytherin," she sobbed. "How—"

"I don't think you were meant to be a Slytherin."

"I used to be a Gryffindor," she laughed bitterly. "And I used to be happy."

"Do you think the Sorting Hat made a mistake?" How easy it was for him to talk to her, like they had been friends for years.

"Dumbledore insists it didn't."

"You told Dumbledore!"

Hermione looked up and nodded. "Of course. I wasn't about to screw up my life again."

"Well, if the Hat doesn't make mistakes, and it put you in two different houses, then something different must have happened in each…er…world before the ceremony."

"Yeah," she sighed. "That's what Dumbledore said. That's what we have been trying to figure out all this time."

"How different are our worlds?"

"Completely," she sighed, giving way to a small, weak smile. "I'm with you, not Malfoy. I'm happy, not miserable. I'm a 'mudblood', according to Malfoy, not a pureblood, though I can't be a pureblood. It's impossible that my parents would change. I wouldn't be the same person if that were true…It's so confusing!"

Ron was silent for a moment, thinking over what she had just said, and then, startling her slightly, his face lit up and he smiled at her for the first time.

"What?" she all but demanded. "What?"

"I think I know when it was. You said you are—what?—muggle-born in your world?"

"Yes." Spit it out! she wanted to scream.

"Well, I remember the day we came here perfectly. We met on the train originally; I was trying a spell and you mocked me." Hermione withheld her giggle. How could she forget that? "We went inside and were waiting to go into the Great Hall. We weren't in houses yet, so no one was bias, no one hated each other like they do now. Malfoy said something mean, something about muggle-borns in general. He didn't know who was who yet…You—"

"Ron!"

Their heads snapped up at the sound of Parvati's voice. If they were caught together who knew what would happen.

"Shit!" he swore, ducking lower. Parvati walked right passed them and disappeared. "I have to go."

"But you didn't—"

"I'm sorry," he sighed, giving her one last fleeting look before running after his girlfriend.

Hermione sunk completely to the ground, curling into a ball. There were no tears left, and she was completely and utterly alone.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"If you won't let me apologize, then at least listen to what I have to say."

Draco rolled his eyes, but gave no other sign that he was listening. She could never know how angry and hurt he was after what she'd said last night. And she had no idea! None! Or at least not completely. Over their time together he had grown almost attached to her, and had learned, someone, to trust her. And he trusted no one. Not his parents. Not his friends; not even Snape. But her, her he had trusted, only to have his face spit in in the end.

His father was right; love was for the weak.

"Draco, please!" she pleaded. "We could go home—"

"Alright, I'm listening," he groaned. "But make it quick."

"When I talked to Ron last night—" He wrinkled his nose in disgust and averted his eyes. "—he was a second from telling me when in our timeline things changed. He had figured it out, but then Parvati came along and he had to leave."

"Wait. Wait one second." He glared hard at her. "You told him about what happened?"

"Well yeah, I—"

"Are you completely brain-dead, Hermione!"

"What! I almost got what we wanted! I thought you would be happy!"

"Forget it," he scoffed. "Leave me alone. I'm sick of you."

As much as she knew he didn't truly mean his words, she was still hurt. Bowing her head in defeat, she retreated to her room. Hopefully her schoolwork would keep her mind busy for a while. If not, then she would drown in her sorrow…

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Now, I know what some of you must be thinking. How can Hermione and Draco get together if Ron is in the picture now? Or if they are always fighting? But, I assure you, that I am going somewhere with this. This is a Draco/Hermione fic after all. Just be patient :)

I love Reviews, they makes more chapters :P 


	8. The Pact

Recap:

"Forget it," he scoffed. "Leave me alone. I'm sick of you."

As much as she knew he didn't truly mean his words, she was still hurt. Bowing her head in defeat, she retreated to her room. Hopefully her schoolwork would keep her mind busy for a while. If not, then she would drown in her sorrow…

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 8: The Pact

The only time in his life that he looked innocent was when he was sleeping. His white blonde hair glowed in the moonlight, and his soft features were relaxed, rather than stiffened in his all too famous and prominent frown. He looked almost angelic—almost.

But she knew the real him, or at least a deeper part of him that no one else knew. He was far from angelic, far from innocent. Though, contrary to popular assumptions, he was not evil and not wholly cynical. His life had been hard, that much was for sure. The stewing hatred that resided in him was enough to curdle anyone's stomach. Yet she knew that that was not a part of him that he liked; he hated it in fact. If she had to guess, she would say that the Malfoy that her alternate counterpart fell for turned out slightly better than this one. True, he had tried to hit her, but that had been before their relationship, before his parents had renounced the Death Eaters and all they stood for.

Slowly, and with a steady hand, she brushed some stray hairs from his forehead to see his face fully. She felt completely awful for what she'd said to him. Yet, at the same time, she was torn. After having seen Ron, and practically thrown herself at him, she couldn't get him off her mind. But he wasn't the same Ron; sure, he acted like him for the most part, but he wasn't HIM.

And Malfoy, well, she wasn't quite sure of her feelings towards him yet. She liked him as a friend, though she couldn't pinpoint exactly why. But more? Staring at him in the soft moonlight, his face calm and peaceful, she might have been compelled to say yes. But she couldn't, could she?

Sitting back, she took in his whole form, silently astonished when her eyes met his. His angelic features hardened into a frown, but he said nothing, simply stared.

"Sorry," she whispered, smiling meekly. "You wouldn't let me near you when you were awake." She didn't know why she felt the need to justify her actions.

"Come here," he said, pulling the covers back to grant her entrance.

"I don't under—"

"You don't have to. Just come here."

After a moment, she crawled into bed beside him, waiting for him to get adjusted before she spoke again. He curled her against him, his head resting above hers, his arms holding her almost protectively.

"Please let me apologize," she said, before he could stop her. He groaned loudly, but made no attempt to answer. "I feel horrible about what I said, and I never meant it. I was angry and—"

"In the heat of an argument is when what we really feel comes out. But, if it makes you sleep better, I forgive you."

"I don't want you to forgive me unless you believe that I never wanted to hurt you. And I don't think our friendship is pretend. I really do like you, Draco. And, to tell you the truth, even though it scares me to death—I only half think about figuring out a way back. The other half of me wants to enjoy the time we have here."

"Then shut up and enjoy it."

Hermione frowned into his chest. He was avoiding her.

"I'm confused Draco." What was it about complete honesty that made her voice tremble?

"About?" he yawned. In truth, he hadn't been to sleep all night. Upon hearing her enter the room he faked it, only opening his eyes when he couldn't stand her not next to him.

"My heart," she whispered. "I love Ron, I always have, always will. But…Draco, there's a part of me that is falling for you, and if we don't get back soon, I might not be able to stop it. I can't—"

"I know," he sighed, pulling her just a bit closer. But why did it have to end? "Its against the rules."

"Its not that."

He pulled his head back and focused on her eyes as best as he could in the harsh lighting.

"Even if Ron wasn't a factor, it could never work. Our world, the one we left, would never be able to accept us. Your parents would never let something like that go…I don't want you to get hurt anymore than you already have been. Not for me…"

What could he say to that? No! I don't care! I would hurt a million times over if it meant being with you! But the catch had been that Ron Weasley was a factor, and so he didn't even try. He loved her; he realized that tonight, as he lay awake, unable to sleep or get her out of his head. And, after a brutal mental debate, he'd accepted his fate and was bracing himself for the inevitable: heartbreak. He couldn't know when it was coming, but he feared its icy touch, and her absence.

"What did you do to me?" he whispered. He kissed her forehead. Once. Twice. What would it be like when he could no longer do that?

She didn't respond. She couldn't. She had no words, and a million and one thoughts circling around in her brain. Had coming here been a curse or a blessing? At this moment, she could not figure which.

"It'll be worth it," she said, trying to convince herself.

"Don't cry."

She looked up at him, questioning him with her silence. Cry? She wasn't crying. But then he kissed her, and she understood, and she kissed him back, melting lusciously into the moment. She wouldn't cry over Ron this time. And she had her answer now; coming here had been a blessing, no matter how upset she would be when it was over. She still loved Ron. She still wanted to be with Ron. But tonight, right now, in this world, in his arms—she wanted only to be with Draco Malfoy.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione was quite pleased with herself the following morning. She stretched out her well-rested limbs, and beside her Draco stirred, but did not wake. She had been given every opportunity to go as far as she wanted with him. He let her make the moves and the decisions. And they never went anywhere passed kissing.

Not that she didn't want to be with him completely. But she was a virgin, and that moment was reserved specifically for Ron. She did have fears, however, that her willpower would cave if they didn't return soon.

But, no matter what, she would always feel guilty. She had betrayed the love of her life for someone that, for all she knew, could turn against her once they went back. She would have to keep careful watch on her heart. And, at the same time, she would need to watch his heart as well. Draco was not used to the kind of emotions he was displaying to her. They were foreign and, if he didn't express them the right way or suppressed them completely, then the effects could be ghastly. If there was one thing she wanted him to get out of this trip, it was to know that not everything in life is bad. Hope can break through, but only if you let it.

"Morning," she said, smiling down at Draco as he opened his eyes. He formed as close to a smile as he could, and pulled her gently down beside him. "What do you want to do on our day off?"

"I'm shocked," he laughed.

"What?"

"You don't want to stay in and do homework?"

"Homework, while productive, is not my idea of making the most of our time here. I was thinking maybe about going into Hogsmeade."

"Want to spend more of my dad's money?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring his playful jab.

"We're always inside, Draco. We need to get out. Breathe fresh air."

He looked at her a moment, then sighed and crawled out of bed to get ready. She had given him the pleading eyes, and he could not ignore her request. He was halfway undressed, water running in the shower, when something struck him. They were acting like a real couple, no matter who was around. And not just the big things; kissing, holding hands, but the little intimate things as well; the cuddling, her being able to use persuasion with him.

He sat down slowly on the closed toilet seat, putting his face in his hands. It felt so real, so good, so much different and wholly better than anything he'd ever felt before in his entire life. And, like any normal person, he didn't wish it to end. The only difference, however, was that he KNEW it was going to end. He knew heartbreak was coming, and that he could never truly have her as his own. It was crueler than anything he could think of in his world. Perhaps going back would help him to heal, re-create that toughened heart he had forgotten in her hypnotizing chocolate eyes.

"Draco," came Hermione's small voice through the door.

He looked up, wiping away the one tear that had somehow managed to escape.

"Yeah?"

"Can you get in the shower so I can come in and brush my teeth?"

"You can come in now."

"Are you—"

"I'm not naked," he chuckled. She opened the door gradually, poking her head in first to make sure. "See."

"Can I ask you something?" His ears perked at the seriousness of her tone; she didn't have her toothbrush.

He nodded slowly.

"How would you feel if we never went back?"

The question took him aback.

"If we couldn't," she added, looking away.

"You know the answer," he said, almost sternly.

"You don't want to go back? For anything?"

"There is nothing there for me."

"And here?"

"Why do you have to do this?" he sighed. He stood and motioned for her to leave so he could get in the shower. "Please don't."

"I'm sorry, I just—"

"I know. But I can't deal with everything at once. Give me—"

"Time, ok," she said quickly. "I'll meet you in the common room."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Draco," Hermione whined, as he pulled her into a shop, having seen something in the window display. "I already told you I didn't need anything."

"I want you to have it," he said in a tone that left little more for discussion. "You'll look good in it."

"How may I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" asked the witch behind the counter, smiling warmly at him and Hermione.

"The green outfit in the display."

"Wonderful choice." She turned to Hermione, tilting her head a little to the side. "Will you be trying it on, Miss Granger?"

She looked over at Draco, who nodded. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded as well.

A moment later the witch returned, motioning for them to follow her to the back of the store where the dressing rooms were.

"Let me know if you need anything else." And then she left them alone.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked. She gathered up the clothes and went behind one of the curtains, sealing it quickly with her wand; not that she didn't trust him, but he was still a boy.

"Because I can," he said bluntly. "What's wrong with buying my girlfriend nice things?" There was a hint of cynical laughter behind his voice; she ignored it all together, deciding it was best to not bring up their world with him unless she had any new information. Besides, it was easier to enjoy herself if she wasn't thinking about her true reality all the time. In a few days she was going to try to approach Ron again—this time without telling Draco—and then hopefully the information would be worthwhile. If not—

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and frowned. The truth was that she didn't know if she would be upset if Ron didn't possess the key. Could she really be falling for Draco? Was she slowly forgetting Ron? And all the horrible things that Draco had done to her in the past? Was this becoming her reality?

Stop thinking about it, she thought angrily. Enjoy the time you have.

"Ready?" she called to the patiently waiting Draco.

"Come on," he said playfully. "I'm dying out here."

She unsealed the curtain, pulling it back slowly and revealing herself inch by inch to further irritate him. It took a certain amount of self-control to keep from giggling at his facial expressions. At first he frowned, annoyed at her. But, when she was in view completely, his frown dropped into a look of astonishment and…admiration?

She tried her best not to blush.

"Well?" She spun around once, showing off every bit of the outfit.

"I—" But his tongue was so tied he could only manage a breathless, "Perfect."

She rather liked the outfit as well. It consisted of a silky black pleated skirt that went to her knees, a form-fitting plain black tank top, and a see-through deep green sweater that came off the shoulders. She wore stockings as well; thin black ones with vertical black stripes.

"What about shoes?" she asked, catching his eyes finally.

"Boots," he said without hesitation.

"Boots? What kind of boots?"

"What do muggles call them? Combat boots?"

"You have more fashion sense than you let on," she laughed, pulling him into an unexpected hug. "Thank you."

"No," he sighed, kissing her lips quickly. "Thank you."

"I feel so strange right now, Draco."

"Why?"

"Like we really are together. I…" She trailed off and looked away, blushing madly. With his finger on her chin, her turned her head to face him.

"What?"

"I want to…to be with you, Draco."

The kiss that followed was so powerful it sparked something within her, and for the first time she didn't want to go back just as badly as him. Her heart quickened, her head felt lighter, and she knew, without a doubt, that it had finally happened. She had fallen for him; she was in love with Draco Malfoy.

"Just while we're here," she whispered into his shoulder. "I-I…I…need you."

He gently grabbed the sides of her head and looked directly into her eyes, knowing that he could never love anyone more than he loved her at this moment. All those years of hatred and loneliness melted away, and for the first time in all his life he was truly happy.

"If that's all I can have, I'll take it."

"Take me home…"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Are you sure?" Draco asked. He kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Yes," Hermione breathed, pulling him as close to her as possible. "I want this. I want you, more than anything."

"More than going back?" he ventured recklessly. If she said no—

"Yes, more than going back."

She kissed him passionately, trying frantically to remove his clothing. It proved to be a little more than difficult. When they were finally fully disrobed, their pace slowed, almost to a stop. Of course Draco had been with other girls, but this moment was different. He wanted to wake up beside her, make her happy, love her in more than just this way. And, above all, he didn't want to hurt her.

"Are you ready?" He positioned himself over her, holding himself up with his arms so not to crush her with the full weight of his body.

"Yes," she whispered huskily.

"It's going to hurt."

"I don't care, Draco." She kissed his nose in reassurance. And not a moment later, he entered her, breaking her. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out in pain, managing to draw a small amount of blood. Draco kissed her lips, not caring about the blood. She was in pain, and his passion was the cause of it.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder. "No."

"Hermione."

"Yes?" Her eyes were filled with tears; she focused on anything but the pain.

"I love you…"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Meep! What did Hermione do!? Bad, bad witch! :o

Tell me what you thought! :P

More twists and turns to come, just wait! :) 


	9. The Key

Recap:

"Yes?" Her eyes were filled with tears; she focused on anything but the pain.

"I love you…"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 9: The Key

Draco bolted upright, drenched in sweat and panting madly. His hair stuck to his forehead, but his appearance was the least of his concerns. Beside him Hermione slept soundly, her gentle, rhythmic breathing nothing close to snoring. Even in sleep she was completely captivating.

"Hermione," he whispered, giving her a soft shove on the shoulder. She groaned, swatting at him halfheartedly. "Hermione, wake up."

"What?" She opened her eyes, wanting to glare at him for waking her, but only managed slightly squinted eyes. "I was having such a nice dream. You ruined it."

"What happened tonight?" he asked, confusing her.

"What'd'you mean?" she yawned. "Nothing special. Why?"

He sighed in half relief, half woe. His passionate and consensual night with Hermione had all been a dream, all in his head. But he was partly happy that it had not occurred, even if that part was rather small and overshadowed by his want. She was a virgin, and another man's woman. Her heart did not belong to him, and he had no right taking something so precious from her.

"Nevermind," he said quickly, and slid back under the covers.

"Draco, tell me."

"I had a dream. I thought it was real. Go back to sleep."

"What dream?" she inquired, not so sleepy anymore. If it had been anything compared to hers, she was quite eager to hear about it. "I'll tell you about mine," she offered, turning him over with some amount of difficulty so she could look at his face. "We came back from Hogsmeade, and it was like time didn't matter or something, because we weren't paying any attention to anyone but ourselves…We came up into your room, and…" She trailed off, blushing slightly. "We couldn't keep our hands off each other…It was…It was a very…good dream."

"I think we had the same dream," he said without thinking. "Too bad it wasn't real," he added, smirking over at her.

"Yeah," she agreed, surprisingly them both. She turned her head away quickly, and curled into a ball beside him, hoping that sleep would come soon to quell the embarrassment. And, before she knew it, it was morning.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione sat extra close to Draco, if that were even possible, at breakfast, unable to keep from smiling. They were some of the last students left, but in no real hurry to leave just yet. How could it be that Draco Malfoy made her THIS happy? Only a short while ago she would have bet her life that Ron was the only person capable to instilling such emotions in her. But now, nestled comfortably beside him, as she sipped her juice, she couldn't understand how they had hated each other in their world.

Earlier that morning, as she showered in the girls' bathroom, she re-evaluated her decision to become more than friends with Draco. But, the more she thought about it, the more she knew it had been the right thing to do. She loved him, and he apparently didn't think she was absolutely repulsive. She was not with Ron, technically, and there was no law that said she was not allowed to love two people. Of course, she knew that once they returned it would be difficult. They would have to completely forget about their feelings for one another, and pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Thankfully, it was their seventh year, which meant less than a year of hiding from each other. Then they would graduate, move on with their lives, and never see each other again.

The thought terrified her, but she knew it was inevitable. She was thankful that she had been allowed to spend what little time she had with Draco. She was the only person who knew this side of him, and to her that was almost worth the heartbreak that would come.

"What are you thinking?" Draco suddenly asked, startling her.

"That's not a very manly question, is it?" she laughed. "I was thinking about us, if you must know."

"And?"

"And I think you're wonderful." She kissed him once on the cheek, then lingered over his lips for a few seconds before kissing them as well. When she pulled back, he was frowning. "Don't worry," she giggled. "I won't let anyone else know."

He rolled his eyes, taking a rather large bite of a bagel.

"You know, I was thinking—"

"Don't hurt yourself."

"Ha, ha. Funny Draco…No really, I was thinking about our past—our REAL past—and it occurred to me that I punched you in the face."

"Don't remind me," he groaned. "That hurt for a week."

"You deserved it though, you know. That was a horrible thing you did to Buckbeak."

"It wasn't me," he said defensively. "It was my father. You think I have any say at my house?"

"But the way you were acting—"

"Do I have to tell you this a million times, Hermione? I'm a prisoner there. If I'm not quote unquote bad, then I'm dead. Period."

Hermione lowered her eyes and nodded. Of course she already knew this. But what was worse was that she was asking him to return to that by wanting to go back. She would have her wonderful, fairy tale life, and he would have to go back to hell. If only there were some way it worked out good for both of them.

"I'm so sorry, Draco," she sighed. "I'm such a horrible person."

He looked at her in utter confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"I've wanted to go back so badly, and this whole time I didn't even consider that this is paradise for you. How can I ask you to go back to a world that treats you so horribly?"

"Because," he said. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, giving her a firm kiss on the forehead. "It's what's best for you, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I would be miserable either way, but when we go back at least you will be…happy."

"But I'm happy here too," she whispered. She kissed his face, almost frantically, stopping finally at his lips. She looked into his eyes, mesmerized by their swimming beauty, then threw her arms around his neck. "What if we don't go back?"

Draco pulled back and gave her a stern look.

"You know that's not possible. Besides, Dumbledore knows and he's expecting us to go back…It's the right thing to do…I hope."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione walked down the hall, her head held just a little higher, as she was almost positive that she had aced her Defense Against The Dark Arts exam. Not that it mattered what grades she got, for nothing either she or Draco did here mattered in the literal sense—but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the satisfaction of doing well in her classes.

She was about to round the corner, headed for the Great Hall for lunch, when she was suddenly pulled back and pushed gently against the wall. She was about to yell, but, upon seeing who it was, simply smiled.

"Hi," she said, trying her hardest not to look directly into his eyes.

"Hey," he said, a slight blush on his cheeks.

"We sort of got interrupted last time. How have you been?"

"A wreck," he admitted, catching her eyes. "Ever since you told me what you told me I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Parvati keeps asking me what's wrong, but I could never tell her that I…Well, what happened."

"I know," she sighed, bolding placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I put you in that position Ron. But I had no choice."

"No, don't be sorry. Please. I'm happy you came to me."

"But you just—"

"Hermione, I don't have much time. I'm supposed to meet everyone in the Great Hall in less than five minutes. This is the first time I've seen you since that night, and I never got a chance to finish."

"I was going to come find you," she said, averting her eyes. Kissing him right now would be completely wrong, though, theoretically, she would be doing nothing wrong. But the situation was complicated. She was officially with Draco in this world, and the Ron that stood before her was not her Ron. "I really need to know what happened that day, Ron."

"Where did I leave off?" He was becoming increasingly more comfortable with her; his alternate self was the luckiest wizard in the world.

"Malfoy was insulting muggle-borns," she offered. Yes, that had been it.

"Right." He concentrated for a moment, then smiled wide. "I forgot what he said, but it's not important. You got really angry and turned to him like you wanted to hit him."

"I probably did," she chuckled.

"I thought you were going to yell at him, but then he said something about you being muggle-born, and you sort of yelped, or something, and smiled."

"Smiled? I smiled?"

"Yeah, and then you said you weren't muggle-born. You were pureblood, and you parents were killed by Death Eaters, and you had to be raised by a muggle family."

Hermione gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. That was it! There was no doubt in her mind. She was so ecstatic, that she sprang forward, wrapping Ron into a tight hug.

"Oh Ron!" she cried, burying her face in his neck. "Thank you! Thank you so much! That's it! I know it is! Thank you!" She stepped back, smiling madly at him, and, as if moved by another force, she grabbed his head and kissed his lips. She hadn't meant to, hadn't really wanted to, but in her excitement, she couldn't control her actions. But, when she pulled back, his strong arms held her in place, deepening the kiss with unarguable passion.

And by the time she managed to pull away, it was already too late.

"I'm so glad I let myself trust you, Granger," came Malfoy's carefully calculated voice. He did not sound angry, therefore she knew he was beyond such feelings and he would never forgive her.

"Draco, I didn't—"

"I think I'll trust my eyes, thank you."

Before either could say a word, he was gone, leaving a heavy tension hanging in the air.

"I thought you two weren't really together," Ron said after a long while. "I thought he was the Malfoy from your world."

"He is," she sighed, hanging her head. "I…It's complicated, Ron."

"Tell me," he said, his voice sounding almost hurt. Could she make any bigger of a mess?

"Since we've been here, I've sort of…I…" She bit her lip, praying for the strength to get through this. "Draco isn't quite the bad guy you think he is."

"Maybe not to you. You like him, don't you? You're not pretending to be with him. You actually like him."

"You don't know him like I do!" she insisted, pushing by him. "This is too hard!" she cried. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, Ron. I never intended for any of this to happen."

He stared coldly at her for a moment, then nodded and said:

"Don't call me Ron."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You don't have to respond," Hermione said, standing at the end of Malfoy's bed, one hand clutching the bedpost. He was lying on his side, turned away from her, and pretending to not even hear her. "And I don't deserve your forgiveness, or Ron's, or…the other Ron's. I know I messed up, and I can't take it back. I wish I could, but I can't." She sighed painfully, wanting more than anything for him to just look at her. "I did kiss him, I can't lie about that, but it wasn't in the way you think."

On the bed, Malfoy scoffed, but said nothing.

"He told me the missing piece of the puzzle. I know when the timelines shifted, and I got so excited that I kissed him. He took it the wrong way and kissed me back…When I was finally able to pull back, you had already seen."

"You can stop now," Draco said, startling her. She hadn't expected him to say anything. But he still wasn't looking at her. "I know I can't be Weasley for you. And I don't want to be him. I should never have let us go as far as we did. It was a mistake."

"I—"

"Hermione, don't. I'm not going to say that it's over, because it never could have been anything." He turned over finally, looking her dead in the eyes. His eyes were red and tired looking, but she knew he had not been crying, only very, very close. And she hated herself even more now for that. "We'll go to Dumbledore in the morning. Then you can have your precious Ron back."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I'm a little surprised to see you, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore said, folding his hands neatly on his desk before him. "Please, take a seat."

"Thank you for seeing me, Professor."

"May I ask why Mr. Malfoy is not accompanying you?"

"That's the reason I'm here, sir," she said, swallowing an almost painful lump in her throat. She couldn't believe what she was about to say, but he was the only person she had left to talk to. "I really made a big mess of everything and…and…" But the words fell from her lips, and she sucked in a deep breath to keep from crying.

"Take your time. I'm here."

She looked up into his eyes, feeling somewhat better at the sight of his warm, un-judging smile. It seemed no matter what she did she could never disappoint him. She was thankful for that at this moment, her hands pressed beneath her knees, one foot crushing the other.

"I always thought I would spend the rest of my life hating Draco," she sighed. She had to start somewhere. "But then we ended up here, and things slowly started to change. I…I started to not hate him. He was actually being nice to me."

"That sounds marvelous, Miss Granger. I had hoped something good would come from your mishap."

Hermione forced a small smile at the word "mishap".

"But I still wanted to go back to my world so badly. I thought about it constantly. And then something changed." She closed her eyes momentarily, trying to picture the exact moment she had realized things would never be the same. "I started to actually like Draco. Really like him."

Dumbledore nodded. He had expected as much. There was some unspoken connection between them and, though it was upsetting her know, he knew it would all work out for the best.

"I was so confused, so I made a really rash decision."

"You spoke to Mr. Weasley?"

She nodded, not even bothering to mentally question how he knew that. He was Dumbledore, he knew everything, and that was good enough for her.

"When I saw him I wanted to hug him so badly. I missed him so much, but he just stared at me like I was this hideous bug he wanted to step on…But then he started to warm up to me, and we were talking, and I told him about had happened, and somehow—I don't remember—he figured out where the timelines changed."

"That's wonderful news."

"He never got a chance to tell me though. His girlfriend walked by, calling his name, and he left."

Dumbledore only nodded.

"Draco was so angry and jealous. We finally worked everything out and went to Hogsmeade, and we were in this shop." She paused for a moment, her eyes misting. That had been such a great day. "He bought me this ridiculously expensive outfit," she laughed bitterly. "And he kissed me, and I realized suddenly that I loved him and I wanted to be with him."

"And you told him this?"

"Not that I love him…But now he won't even look at me."

"What happened next?" he encouraged, his brow slightly knit.

"I told him I wanted to be with him, and we agreed to be, but only until we went back…Everything was going so perfectly, but then…" She brought her arms up and hugged herself as if she were cold. Which was somewhat true; she felt so cold and empty inside, and everything that had happened seemed somehow to be her fault. "But then Ron stopped me in the halls this afternoon."

"Did he tell you the missing piece this time?"

Hermione nodded, a single tear trailing the length of her face.

"I got so excited that I grabbed his face and kissed him. But the thing was, I didn't want to kiss him, not really, not like a real kiss. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes," he assured her. "I can understand your happiness at the situation."

"Ron took it the wrong way and hugged me to him. I pulled away, but…but…Draco was already there!" She burst into tears, pulling her legs tight to her chest. "I screwed everything up. Draco hates me now and its all my fault!"

"I'm sure he does not hate you, Miss Granger," he said, somehow by her side, his arm slung over her shoulders. "He saw something misleading, and it hurt him. Perhaps he will cool down in a day or two, and—"

"That won't happen," she sighed. She wiped furiously at her eyes, cursing herself silently for crying. "He knows I know the key and he wants to go back tomorrow. I blew it…"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Well I'm just a mean little author, now aren't I? Heehee! But everything will make sense at the end. I'm guessing maybe two more chapters, and I think I can sort everything out by then.

REVIEW! Please:)

Note: Sorry to those of you who are angry about Draco and Hermione not actually sleeping together. But I have good reason for doing that. One, Hermione truly loves Ron and would never want to hurt him. Two, I'm mean, heehee…No, really, I think its better that they didn't sleep together. This is a love story, not soft porn :P Don't get me wrong, I love lemons as much as anyone else, but for this story I don't think it was right. Don't hate me!

And I promise everything will be fine! Trust me! Trust me:D

One more thing: If you didn't figure it out on your own, the reason that moment in the past is the right one, the one that changed the timeline, is because Slytherins are cunning and would do anything to be the best, yadda yadda. When Hermione lied about her parents it changed everything, and she was sorted into Slytherin. Does that make sense? I hope so :P 


	10. Home

Recap:

"I'm sure he does not hate you, Miss Granger," he said, somehow by her side, his arm slung over her shoulders. "He saw something misleading, and it hurt him. Perhaps he will cool down in a day or two, and—"

"That won't happen," she sighed. She wiped furiously at her eyes, cursing herself silently for crying. "He knows I know the key and he wants to go back tomorrow. I blew it…"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 10: Home

There was no use getting her things ready for classes. Hermione wasn't going to class today. She was going to Dumbledore's office, and from there she and Draco would return to their true reality.

Once returning to her dormitory the following night, Hermione sealed herself in her bed, putting a silencing charm on it so no one would hear her cry. She didn't even try to fall asleep. She knew it was impossible. But the worst part was that Draco would never know how she really felt about him. He wouldn't even look at her—let alone listen to a thing she said—and so her love went on unknown.

By the time Hermione had showered, got dressed, and trudged down to the common room, Draco was already there, sitting calmly by a raging fire.

If she attempted to talk to him he wouldn't listen. But if she didn't, she would go absolutely mad.

"I'm not taking another step until you listen to me for a minute." The statement surprised even her, but she decided to stick with it. Her subconscious seemed to know what it was doing.

He sneered up at her, then let out a huff of a laugh.

"I have a request."

"You?" he laughed. "You have a request…of ME?"

She nodded, trying not to look at him. He didn't look angry, so much as…normal. The Draco Malfoy she had known before their trip. She bit her lower lip and clenched her fists at her sides. He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

"I hate myself, Draco!" she yelled, as if he had tried to contradict her. "I hurt you in the worst way possible, and there is nothing I can do to change that! But…But…" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "If you give me one more chance, one more day, I will do all in my power to prove to you how much you mean to me."

"And if you fail?"

Her eyes snapped open and her heart quickened.

"If I fail, I will never even look at you again."

"Ok," he said with a cold finality. "Start proving."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger, the most studious student in Hogwarts' History, was skipping her entire day of classes. On the spur of the moment, she had come to the conclusion that ditching her classes was one of many ways she could prove herself to Draco. She had no idea where to go from there, but at least it was a start; at least he was around her for more than thirty seconds, and, best of all, they were not going back until tomorrow.

"You still don't believe me about the Ron thing, do you?" Hermione asked boldly, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he ate his cotton candy. They were sitting outside of Honeydukes, on a cold stone bench. She hadn't the stomach to eat anything right now.

"I'm not a trusting person," he said, his voice flat and lifeless. "And I trusted you…Make your own assumptions."

"I don't love that Ron, Draco," she whispered, inching slightly closer. "I didn't want to kiss him. I was excited—"

"You still don't get it." He turned to face her, his voice displaying a glimpse of the emotion he must have been feeling. "I don't care about the damn kiss, alright? I know you were just excited, I believe you." Hermione's brow was knit in confusion. He wasn't making any sense. What was he so mad about if not the kiss?

"Draco, I don't understand. Why are you being so cold? Why do you want to go back now? I thought—"

"I thought a lot of things too, Granger, but this isn't the real world. This isn't where we belong."

"Why are you angry?"

"I'm more than angry," he laughed, shaking his head. He picked off a piece of cotton candy and offered it to her. Hesitantly she took it, but did not eat it. "I would have thought you'd have figured it out by now…You…" He paused, turning his head away, his voice having caught awkwardly in his throat. "You want to go back so bad. You said you wanted to stay here, but I knew that was a lie. I…" But there were never any words there, and so he shrugged and sighed.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, then gasped in realization, clamping her hand over her mouth.

"It's because of how excited I got, isn't it?"

He didn't respond.

"Draco, I really do wish I could stay here with you. I've had such a great time, and I've learned so much about you, and…I…I can't stand the idea of never having this with you again, but—"

"But we have to go back, I know," he grunted. "I've accepted that."

She reached out to embrace him, but he drew back so quickly it must have looked like she'd struck him.

"Don't touch me," he said harshly.

"Draco."

"Hermione," he mocked.

She nodded her head solemnly.

"What are you going to do when we get back?"

He sighed deeply, then looked up, catching her eyes.

"Pretend…"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I have unbelievable patience with you, Draco," Hermione said. She set down a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, then took a seat beside him on the couch.

"And just what are you getting at?" Over the course of the day he had become less harsh with her, but he was by no means friendly, and of course still very cold. But she was just happy that he was speaking to her, whether it was insults or not. Anything was better than silence.

"What I mean is that any other person would have given up on you by now."

"How noble of you."

She scoffed under her breath, then looked down at her shirt and sighed.

"Do I still need to wear this?"

"I rather like it on you," he chuckled. It was a pink t-shirt with enchanted blinking neon pink text that read: I Love Being A Know-It-All. True, it had been Hermione's idea, and she had worn it around all day, including to meals, but by now the blinking was starting to give her a headache and she felt utterly ridiculous in it. "Brings out your true colors."

"Draco," she said, her voice so low he almost didn't hear her. He turned, but wouldn't look directly at her. "I'm changing this shirt…I have one more thing to do to prove myself to you." She stood, unaware of the fact that he had noticed how shaky her hands were at her sides. "Meet me in your room in ten minutes."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco sat in the virtually empty common room, his arm propped on the armrest and his cheek pressed against his palm. He couldn't imagine what she had in mind, though a few ideas—all equally unlikely—had popped into his head. Oh well, he thought. He would find out in a few minutes anyway.

As he waited, he tried not to think about the fact that they would be back in their true reality by this time tomorrow. They would go back to avoiding each other, with the occasional public display of mutual hatred. And while he still hadn't gotten over his heartache, he could not help but want to take her back. Then at least he could have the complete and unabashed warmth of her embrace, the lusciously sweet press of her lips to his one last time.

"Draco."

His head snapped up to the top of the boys' dormitory stairs. She wore only loose-fitting green pajama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt. Her hair was down and framed her face perfectly. She was gorgeous and he loved her.

"You can come up now. I'm ready."

He waited until he was to the top of the stairs to speak.

"What's this all about, Granger? What are you doing to me?"

She smiled shyly and nervously up at him. His hair was falling in his eyes at just the right places. In that moment, she couldn't understand how she hadn't fallen in love with him sooner. In the back of her mind, of course, she knew the answer, but everything about their "trip" had been irrational to this point; there was no use changing things now.

"I don't understand my own heart, Draco," she said simply. She motioned almost daintily with her hand for him to follow her into his room. "I don't know how I can love Ron so deeply, but still have such strong feelings for you." She stopped by the bed, but did not sit down. He noted absently that his roommates were not there, and the room held a certain abstract tone, though what it was he could not quite guess. "I'm more than confused, you know that, I've told you that. But right now, while we're still here, I am going to forget about my other life. I'm letting go, Draco." She made a small gesture with her arms; her eyes were hazy as if she meant to cry. "I'm letting myself go. I'm yours now, only yours, for what time we have left, and I…I…" She took a deep breath and sat down. Draco opted to stand. "I'm giving myself to you, Draco."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she held up her hand; she was not finished.

"Don't tell me not to. Don't tell me I don't want to, because I do. I always have, only I was scared before."

"And now?" he managed to squeeze out.

"I'm more afraid of losing you than I am of a little pain."

"That's not what you were afraid of Hermione."

She smiled and patted the place beside her; he called her Hermione.

"Why do you think this is what will prove yourself to me?" He sat down, but there was a considerable gap between them.

"Because," she sighed, "I was still holding onto Ron before, holding onto the idea of having my first time be special and with someone I…care about. And what I realized is that I care for you as much as I do Ron. And I want you for my first."

Draco sighed loudly, then, very slowly, he nodded. His face was still as rigid as it had ever been; she hadn't seen him truly smile since yesterday morning, and she missed it so.

He slid as close to her as possible and, almost mechanically, he put his arms around her and their lips came together in a rough kiss. It was not so much passionate as…sloppy. Her spine didn't tingle, her toes didn't curl. But she knew what she wanted, and she was determined to ignore her body signals. She could NOT come this far only to lose him in the end.

Her eyes fixed on the velvety green curtains of his bed as his lips and teeth and tongue assaulted her neck. Clumsily, he pulled at her shirt until she lifted her arms; he threw it across the room, immediately going for her bottoms. In mere seconds she was in only a skimpy pair of silky panties. So she did the only thing she could think of. She began to remove his clothing, having only a slightly more difficult time, seeing as he had been fully clothed and robed.

They hadn't said a single word the entire time. His eyes would drift over her, but never stop on her eyes. When they had been so close those times before, there had always been talking, it had been passionate and fumbling in their hurry, not careless and, well, boring.

By the time she was lying on her back, Draco's long fingers working her panties down her legs, she was so completely gone from the moment that she almost didn't notice they were both entirely naked. His hands roughly roamed her curves, his lips played with hers. They were so close, he was almost in her, he was touching her, any second it would happen.

But then it stopped. He sat up, not saying a thing.

"Draco?"

He didn't respond.

"Draco?" she repeated. She too sat up, ignoring their nakedness. There was something far more important going on. "What's wrong? Why did you stop?"

"Who are you trying to kid?" He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "We were like corpses."

"I do want you, Draco. I wasn't lying. I swear on—"

"I know, Hermione." He turned to her, giving her a small, forced smile. "I know. But I could never let you do that. I was never going to let it go that far."

Hermione's brow narrowed in confusion. What was he saying?

"I wanted to see if you were serious, if you really meant to go through with it. But I can't do it, Hermione. You—" He grabbed her face suddenly, kissing her lips with the passion that had so obviously been missing moments before. When he pulled back, he still held her face with a lover's gentleness. He had tears in his eyes. "You are worth more to me than that, Hermione."

"Draco, I—"

But his lips silenced her. He grabbed his wand from the bedside table, mumbling, "Accio robe," into her lips. Without breaking their kiss, he pulled his robe over her naked form, wrapping it tightly around her.

"Please, Draco," she whispered. He pulled on his boxers and pulled her down to lie next to him. "I can't go back. Not yet. Not tomorrow. Please."

"If not tomorrow, then when? Hermione, if we don't get it over with we never will."

"But I don't—"

"You'll regret it," he said, placing his fingers over her lips. "You know I'm right."

"Now what?"

"Just what you said. Enjoy…"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After much consideration, and a mild bit of arguing, it was decided that after lunch they would go to see Dumbledore about returning to their time. Needless to say, they were the last ones out of the Great Hall, their heads bowed and fingers tightly laced.

"This is it," Hermione said, taking a deep breath before then began the ascent to the Headmaster's office.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's perfectly aged voice; she hadn't needed to knock, he knew they were coming. "Good afternoon Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy."

"Hello Headmaster," Hermione said. Draco said nothing. In fact, he hadn't said a word since they left the Great Hall, and Hermione had only just noticed.

"You'll be happy to know that I have the Displacer in my possession, and, as soon as you are ready we can send you back where you belong."

"The Displacer," she repeated under her breath. So that's what it was called.

"Would you mind explaining to me just when your timelines separated?"

Hermione nodded, then proceeded to tell him exactly what Ron had said. Draco seemed unaffected, his jaw set firmly, and his swimming blue eyes fixed on an unseen point in the distance.

"Excuse me." Dumbledore stood from his desk and made for the door. "I'll be back in ten minutes." Without another word he left the room.

For a long while there was dead silence, and neither occupant would look at the other.

Surprisingly, Draco was the first to speak.

"Why does the damn thing have to exist in this world too?" he huffed, crossing him arms rigidly over his broad chest. Hermione laughed uneasily, her bottom lip curling in as she attempted to withhold her emotions.

"I can't believe we're going back already. There's so much more I still want to experience with you, Draco. I…I'm going to miss you so much."

Finally he pulled her into a hug, stroking the back of her head. She was not crying, however, but he knew the tears would eventually come. And, for some reason, he wished they would come for him too. Because how else was he supposed to let her know how he felt about her? There was no way he would just say it, just like that, just say, "I love you." What if—

"I never thought I'd miss a mudblood."

"Don't make jokes." She stood back, her face dry and contorted with pain. "I know I'll see you again, but this really is good-bye Draco. We can never have this again. We…We have to go back now," she whispered as a few tears managed to escaped her big brown eyes. "I want so badly to stay, but we don't belong here. My life—Our lives aren't meant to be…Oh Draco!" she cried, curling once again into his chest. He wrapped his arms protectively around her, kissing her forehead roughly. "We can't stay. We—"

"I know," he sighed into her sweet-smelling curly locks. "This isn't our place, and you're a Gryffindor."

"I can't believe I can never kiss you again," she said, kissing him all over his face. "I can never hold you and talk to you and—"

"Why do you think I don't want to go back? This is my reality…"

A soft knock at the door startled them. A moment later Dumbledore walked in, carrying the Displacer.

"Are we ready?" he asked. "The coordinates have already been set. Simply press the big yellow button and hold the handles."

"Thank you Headmaster," Hermione said, forcing a sad smile. This was the best and worst thing she could have imagined.

"Is there anything else I can do for you two before you depart?"

Hermione thought for a moment, then shook her head. She couldn't think of a thing.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

To her utter surprise, he stepped forward, taking Dumbledore just far enough away so she could not hear their brief conversation. A few moments later he returned to her side and the Headmaster disappeared into his closet.

"What was that about?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"My family," he said, and there was no further questioning.

"The trip back is sure to have some adverse effects on you," Dumbledore said as he walked back into view, carrying two small vials of blue liquid.

"What kind of effects?"

"Nothing serious," he assured her. "Only some nausea and a very bad headache. This serum will prevent that." He handed each of them a vial. Draco downed his immediately, while Hermione was hesitant. Of course she trust her superior, but something just did not seem right all of a sudden. She looked to Draco for reassurance, and when he smiled at her, she knew she was only being silly and nervous, and drank down the serum in one gulp. "Now the only thing left to do is activate the Displacer. I'll leave you two alone for that."

"You've been so great to us, Headmaster," Hermione said, deciding against hugging him. "Thank you."

"Your welcome, Miss Granger. And good luck."

"Are you ready?" she asked, turning to Draco. He held the Displacer loosely at his side.

"No," he admitted. "But I never could be."

"Draco—"

"Here." He held up the Displacer and she grabbed the other handle with a shaky hand.

"This doesn't seem right. I want to be with you."

"It is right," he said, almost sternly, and pulled her into their last embrace. Without consulting her, he pressed the only yellow button on the device, bracing himself. "I love you Hermione Granger," he whispered, just as they felt the inevitable tug at their bellybuttons.

The air swirled, their vision blurred, and for a moment there was absolute and serene silence.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Well I can't just end it there! No, no, no! My next chapter will be my last, the epilogue. Let's see how that turns out, heeheehee:P

REVIEW! 


	11. Bitter Reality

Note: Read the ENTIRE chapter before making assumptions! And read the after-notes. Thank you :)

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Recap:

"It is right," he said, almost sternly, and pulled her into their last embrace. Without consulting her, he pressed the only yellow button on the device, bracing himself. "I love you Hermione Granger," he whispered, just as they felt the inevitable tug at their bellybuttons.

The air swirled, their vision blurred, and for a moment there was absolute and serene silence.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 11: Bitter Reality

Hermione's eyes snapped open and she scrambled to her feet, backing away from those who had just woken her. She was outside the Gryffindor common room and Draco was nowhere in sight. Were they back? How had she gotten here? Where was he!

"Hermione."

She looked over, slightly scared when her eyes fell on Ron and Harry.

"R-Ron?"

"Did you crack your head or something, 'Mione? You missed Defense Against the Dark Arts today!"

To the boys' complete surprise, this did not affect her at all. Instead, she asked a bold and stupid question.

"Where is Draco?"

They stared at her for a long while, in total silence. And then, cracking a smile at first, they burst into laughter and Ron took her into his arms.

"You really must have hit your head." He kissed her cheek lovingly, unaware of her apprehension. "Who cares where Malfoy is."

"But he…he was just…Ron." She stood back, grabbed his shoulders almost roughly. "What do you think about Parvati?"

"Uh…Er…She's nice I guess," he said, unsure of what she meant. "Never had a problem with her. Hermione, what's going on? Why are you asking about Malfoy?"

"I…" But then it hit her. Her knees went out from under her, and, if it weren't for Ron's strong arms, she would have fallen to the floor. She had no tears; only a hollowness deep inside of her. "It must have been a…a dream," she forced out, biting her lip.

"A dream? About Malfoy?" Harry laughed. "No, I think you had a nightmare."

"I think I need to lie down guys," she said quickly. "I must have passed out or something and hit my head. I don't remember missing class. Could you tell everyone where I am?"

"Sure," Ron said a little uneasily. Was she keeping something from him? "Are you going to be ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll be fine. I just need some rest. I'll be down for dinner."

He kissed her before she could turn away, and she sobbed into his mouth, collapsing in his arms.

"I love you Ron," she whispered. "I do. I love you. I have to…"

Ron looked over to Harry, who was just as clueless, then lifted her off the ground, cradling her like a small child. Harry gave the password and led the way to their dormitory. She was asleep by the time Ron set her on his bed.

"Should we leave her alone?"

Ron sighed deeply and nodded.

"Yeah. I think she needs to be alone. I hope I didn't do anything…"

Harry patted his best friend on the back as they walked down to the common room. "Trust me, Ron. If you did something I would know about it."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"There's no way," Hermione muttered to herself, trudging down the corridor towards the Slytherin common room. "I don't believe it." She didn't care how ridiculous and out of place she looked, going up to the Slytherin entrance, her fists clenched at her sides, her lips set rigidly in half anger, half desperation.

"Draco!" she screamed, pounding on the wall. "Draco Malfoy! Get out here now!"

For a long while she was alone. And then, quite suddenly, she was face to face with Goyle. Well, face to chest. She looked up, glaring at him.

"Where is Draco?" she demanded angrily.

"What the hell do you want with him, Gryffindor?" Goyle sneered. "He doesn't talk to scum."

Hermione was through with patience and understanding. She whipped out her wand, jabbing it into Goyle gut.

"I will hex you into oblivion if you do not get out of my way in the next five seconds."

For a moment he thought she was joking. But then, looking into her eyes, he knew she would do it, and he stepped aside, rubbing the tender spot on his belly.

"Draco!" Hermione called out once passed the entrance and in the common room. It looked only slightly different than it had in the other reality. And for her this was proof enough that it had been real; before then she had never been inside the Slytherin common room, never ever heard what it looked like. "Draco Malfoy! Where are you!"

Frowning, he emerged from his room, only in a pair of hastily pulled on boxer shorts.

"How the hell did you get in here, Granger?" he demanded.

"How could you just leave me out there like that?"

"Out where?"

"Outside the—" But her words fell short as Pansy came into view, Draco's robe draped over her shoulders in the same haphazard fashion, and put her arms around his neck.

"What the hell is she doing in here?" she sneered. "I thought this place was mudblood-proof."

"Are you going to answer me or not, Granger? Why are you here? What do you want?"

"You…I…" She fumbled through her robes, horrorstruck when she could not find the picture she had put there as a permanent reminder of their time together. Mrs. Malfoy had taken it over Christmas break. It had been just the two of them, hugging each other on the couch in front of the fireplace. It had been perfect. It had been…fake. "If…If you don't shape up with your Head duties I'm going to tell Dumbledore!" It was the only logical thing she could think to say.

"I'm terrified, really," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Now get the hell out of here, mudblood."

With one last fleeting look, Hermione turned and headed for the exit. She knew she should have felt relieved. She hadn't cheated on Ron after all. She had a clear conscience. But, no matter what she knew she should feel, she still couldn't help but want it to have been true.

If it wasn't real, she thought, then why do I still love him?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

For the next week Hermione was determined to prove that she had not been dreaming. Waking up by the tower had not convinced her. Draco's cruelty had not convinced her. Even the disappearance of the photo was not enough. There had to be some proof, something undeniable that told her what had really happened.

And, being Hermione Granger, she went to the only place she knew for answers: the library.

It was well past dinnertime, but the growling in her stomach could be ignored. She needed answers and she needed them now. She refused to believe that it was a dream, and without concrete evidence, she would go mad wondering about it.

Finally, just as the library was emptying for the night, she found what she was looking for. Or at least a very good piece of it.

"The Displacer is a complicated and dangerous device," she read aloud, her hands gripping the sides of the book as if it would run off. "When used properly, it can be very useful, though the average witch or wizard does not know the true use for the Displacer…" She scanned the text, looking for specific keywords. When nothing profound popped out at her, she slammed the book shut angrily and stomped out of the library.

Her only solace was that the Displacer was real. Now that that was out of the way, she was going to have to find a way to get Draco to admit what had happened.

"I just don't understand," she sighed. "It was too real to have been a dream…"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco looked on in unmeasured boredom as the perfects cleared out of the room. The meeting had been less than productive, and, as a result of some of the students' incompetence, he now had a headache. He could not wait to get back to his house and lie down.

"Do you think we covered everything?" Hermione asked, not looking at him as she leafed through some pieces of parchment.

"Do you really want my opinion, Granger?" he sighed.

"You are a Head."

"What I think is that they are the most inadequate morons Dumbledore has ever assigned as perfects. It's mind-numbing to listen to them."

"Yeah," she agreed halfheartedly. "They do seem to be lacking in certain areas…Sometimes I think it would be better if I was never named Head Girl."

"I'm with you on that," he laughed acidly. "Then I wouldn't have to put up with you more than necessary."

"Malfoy, I've been looking for Dumbledore figures for Ron. Do you know where I could find one? I've looked everywhere."

"Why the hell would I know where those pieces of junk are? And stop making small talk with me, mudblood. We have work to do, and I'm overdue for a nap."

"You're not fooling me, Draco," she said fearlessly. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but it hurts. Now look me in the eye and tell me we never used the Displacer to reach an alternate universe."

Draco's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed considerably.

"First of all, I don't know what a Displacer is," he said, looking her directly and steadily in the eye. "Second, why the hell would I go anywhere with you? And third, I think it's time you laid off the drugs, Granger. They're beginning to affect your sanity. Well," he scoffed, pulling his bag onto his shoulder, "what little sanity you have."

"I…" She trailed off, her eyes falling to the floor. He could not see her cry right now. "I supposed you're right," she whispered. She grabbed her bag and walked out of the room without another word. There were no answers left. It had not been real and he did not love her.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

He stared at the closed door for a long time before moving. She had been so determined, so sure she knew what she was talking about. And he felt sorry for her. So many times in class over the past week she had tried to catch his eyes, tried to tell him something in small gestures with no words. Her appearance in his common room had been surprising to say the least.

He was just about to reach for the doorknob, when something tugged at him from within. He sighed and reached into his robe pocket instead.

You knew this would suck, he scolded himself. The classes, the meetings.

He sighed, his eyes fixed on the thing in his hand. It was the only thing in this world that he cherished; it would never leave his side, his most precious possession.

Her.

Her smile was beautiful, as beautiful as she was. And she was happy there, clinging to him. Anyone looking at this picture would know instantly that they were deeply in love. "I didn't think it would hurt THIS bad," he cried, collapsing to the floor. And, for the first time, he cried for her, his love for her, and for the measures he had taken to ensure her happiness.

He wished it had all been a dream. He wished he could forget her as easily as she was bound to forget him. But, at the same time, he wanted nothing more than her small body curled against him.

And, as much as he hated it, he knew he had done the right thing. She would undoubtedly disagree with him. But, then again, she always did.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Flashback:

There was a reason Draco had not said a word the entire time they were in the Headmaster's office. His mind had constantly been at work, trying desperately to think of something that could make the whole situation bearable. And, if not for the both of them, then maybe just for her.

"Is there anything else I can do for you two before you depart?"

And then he knew what he had to do. He didn't know where the idea had come from, but it was not the time to question such things. He waited for Hermione to answer before stepping up and bringing Dumbledore out of her earshot.

"I could see it in you," the Headmaster said, bowing slightly to the shorter man. "What can I do for you?"

"I love her," Draco said plainly, his brow narrowed almost to the intensity of a glare, but not quite. "I would do anything for her happiness, and I think I know the only way for that to ever happen."

"I'm all ears Mr. Malfoy."

"I think she's afraid to go back because of how guilty she'll feel once she sees Weasley again." Dumbledore nodded; that thought had crossed his mind as well. "I don't want that for her. She deserves more. She deserves to be happy."

"Everyone deserves happiness, Draco. And though you don't think so, you do too."

"I can take care of myself. I'm only concerned her with right now. I have to know she'll come out of this happy and guilt-free."

"What is your proposal?"

"A light sleeping draught," he said boldly. Dumbledore didn't bat an eyelash. "Something that will only last an hour or so. Tell her its medicine or something, for the trip back. She'll trust you, you know she will."

"Continue," the Headmaster said when he paused, as if awaiting approval.

"When she wakes up and I pretend like nothing ever happened, then she might think it was all a dream, and she would forget about me."

"And have no guilt with Mr. Weasley."

"Exactly."

"And what will happen when she sees you are not taking the medicine?"

"Give me colored water or something. Listen professor, this has to work. I love her too much to have her go through any pain on account of me. If I have to suffer for her happiness then I will suffer. You have to help me help her. I don't know what else I can do."

Dumbledore was silent for a long while. And then, with a small smile on his lips, he nodded, and headed for his closet to prepare the draught.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked when he went back over to her.

"My family," he said quickly, saying the first thing that came to mind. When she didn't question him, he knew it would work. He thought of thanking the Headmaster, but decided against it. Besides, he knew. And, more importantly, Draco truly knew what a great man he was. He would never doubt him again.

He watched intently as Hermione drank the sleeping draught. It would take a few minutes for it to work, which was just enough time.

"This doesn't seem right," she said. Her pain was unbearable to him, but he had to be strong for the both of them. Now was not the time to breakdown. "I want to be with you."

"It is right," he said, almost sternly, and pulled her into their last embrace. Without consulting her—and before he lost his nerve—he pressed the only yellow button on the device, bracing himself. "I love you Hermione Granger," he whispered, knowing it was the only time and place he could have ever told her; just as they felt the inevitable tug at their bellybuttons.

The air swirled, their vision blurred, and for a moment there was absolute and serene silence.

Dumbledore had not been lying about the nausea, but he ignored that, holding her close and whispering how much he loved her over and over.

And then it stopped.

He looked down at her perfectly soft face, smiling sadly. She was unconscious and limp in his arms, and he was relieved for that. Dumbledore's office was completely empty, as he had expected. Quickly, before the unknowing Headmaster returned, he gathered Hermione's sleeping form in his arms and shuffled down the winding staircase.

It was just after lunch and classes were in secession. With Hermione unable to move on her own, he would have to carry her back to the Gryffindor tower. And he would have to hurry. He had no clue when classes would be let out.

Just as the bells rang to dismiss eager Hogwarts' students, Draco eased Hermione to the floor outside the snoozing Fat Lady's portrait. He had so wished for their good-bye to have been more special, the way he knew she had wanted it. But, in one last act of devotion, he made a drastic decision.

He checked her over quickly, just to be sure she was safe, then picked through her robe pockets; they had changed into the clothes they went in so to avoid suspicion. Almost immediately he found what he was looking for and slipped it into his pants pocket. There was no use in her having it now.

With one final kiss to her warm, smooth forehead, Draco whispered his good-bye and descended the staircase. And no matter how much he wanted to run back to her and hold her in his arms, he knew this was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.

End Flashback:

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ok, I lied :P This was not the last chapter. But I know you don't mind. I swear, my next update is the epilogue. Something things changed and I realized that I needed two chapters to wrap everything up and make sure things were fully explained.

Don't worry, there's still hope!

REVIEW! 


	12. Epilogue

Recap:

He checked her over quickly, just to be sure she was safe, then picked through her robe pockets; they had changed into the clothes they went in so to avoid suspicion. Almost immediately he found what he was looking for and slipped it into his pants pocket. There was no use in her having it now.

With one final kiss to her warm, smooth forehead, Draco whispered his good-bye and descended the staircase. And no matter how much he wanted to run back to her and hold her in his arms, he knew this was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.

End Flashback:

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 12: Epilogue

Hermione walked arm in arm with Ron to breakfast a week after Draco's breakdown, completely unaware of Draco's more intense than usual sour disposition. In fact, she didn't even glance at him; not once. Apparently he was a better actor than he thought and finally, after two weeks, she had come to terms with "reality" and accepted that their time together had only been a twisted dream.

But, no matter how sore he was at seeing her falling over Ron Weasley, he was truly happy deep inside. Because his plan had worked, because she was happy, and because she could move on with her life and continue to be happy. And for him that was enough to keep going for the rest of his.

Since their return, he had not bothered to contact his family. Not that he normally did, but there was an underlining curiosity in him to see or hear from them after having met their positive counterparts. This curiosity was not strong enough, however, for him to actually go through with it. He planned to spend as little time with them as possible, while his soul desperately clung to the memories of what could have been had Hermione but said a few simple words seven years before.

He was not blaming her. No. She was the Hermione he had fallen in love with, not the devious girl of the other universe. Not the girl he had learned his equivalent self had treated with the utmost cruelty, almost to the point of abuse. It sickened him that the other him could be even more surly than him and have the good parents he had. It just proved even more conclusively that nothing in life makes sense.

At night when he couldn't sleep—and he hadn't had a good night's sleep since they came back—he thought of Hermione's big soft brown eyes, and the way she looked at him in those last few days. Did she love him? He could never know. He had made sure that she could not respond when he'd confessed his feelings out of fear that they would not be returned. He knew she cared about him, that she'd wanted to stay and be with him, but was that enough to prove love? Without her confession he had nothing but hope and a tightly woven web of grief.

Her willingness to make a fool out of herself to find the truth had been somewhat startling to him. Was that her way to show her love? Or had she just been so determined to not be proven wrong that she didn't care how she looked to others? Months ago he would have put his money on determination. Now he was caught between his deepest feelings for her and his want to know if she had returned them.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the Great Hall was nearly empty. With a painfully heavy sigh, he gathered his things and trudged off to class, ignoring the fact that Pansy was trailing behind him, trying to get his attention.

"Draco!" He was almost through the door to Potions, when Pansy finally caught his arm, pulling him back into the hall.

"What do you want?" he groaned. He was in no mood to deal with her neediness.

"What's gotten into you lately? You didn't listen to a word I said to you at breakfast. What has you so distracted?"

"None of your damn business." He shoved passed her and into the classroom, just in time to slip in front of Hermione and avoid staring at her back as he walked to his seat, longing to hold her.

The class proved to be more than boring, and, in a daydream state, he didn't notice that Snape was talking to him.

"Do you have an answer for me, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, his face only slightly less sullen when addressing members of his own house.

"No professor," he sighed. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Very well. Is there anyone else who knows the answer?"

Surprisingly Hermione's hand did not shoot straight up. In fact, her eyes were nowhere near the professor or the lesson he was teaching. She was scribbling something on a small piece of parchment, ignorant to the fact that he was staring at her. Why couldn't he just tell her? Why couldn't she just know that it had all been real and that he did love her and wanted her so badly that it hurt?

Only a few times in his life had Draco cried. Now, after that night of Head duties with Hermione's prying, he could not seem to keep his emotions at bay when he was alone. At night, when everyone was asleep, he snuck into the Room of Requirement, where he now had a Pensieve, and reflected on his times with the only girl who could have ever been able to tame his wild heart. And more times than not he cried until his eyes were dry, then retired to his room for his unhealthy restless sleep.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, class was over, and Draco wouldn't have to see Hermione's face again until lunch.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco was halfway to his common room, intent on going to the Room of Requirement, when he remembered, quite suddenly, that he had a very big Potions assignment to do. Most people thought that Draco was a lazy student, who only acquired good grades by deceit and the power his father had with the Ministry. But, on the contrary, he was actually very studious, and preferred to have his homework done long before it was due.

Besides, it was the best way for him to keep his thoughts from drifting into dangerous territory.

He climbed the stairs back to his dormitory, closing himself in his bed and illuminating his wand for just enough light to see the text of his book. He settled himself comfortably against his big fluffy pillows, and opened the book to the correct chapter.

"What the—" He pulled a piece of parchment from inside the book, not remembering sticking a bookmark there. He never did that sort of thing. He was about to toss it aside, when he noticed something only a wizard of refinement could see. The parchment was not of the best quality, and yellowed in color. The parchment he owned was pure white and cost more than most students' robes.

Slowly, he opened the folded paper. He did not believe his eyes, and, after rubbing them and intensifying the light of his wand, read the short script again.

Draco,

I forgive you, if you can forgive me. Don't ever forget, and please know that I love you too.

Forever yours,

The Displacetrice

He re-read the note ten minutes before it was fully absorbed in his mind. And then, very carefully, he folded it back up and slipped it into his inside robe pocket with the picture of them. He couldn't know how she knew, but it was perfectly clear that she did, and she would make no further attempt to extract his confession.

He propped his book back up on his knees, a small, but genuine, smile playing on his lips.

Now he could let go.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Five Years Later:

Draco walked steadily through the crowd, trying his best not to slam directly into anyone. He could easily see those headed his way, what with the good three to four inches he had on almost everyone. At twenty-two, he was a well-built, fashionable, and high-ranking wizard. He worked for a The Ministry of Magic in Madrid, and was only back home for a week. The day before his mother had given birth to a seven-pound baby girl by the name of Ebony. He was not home to visit his parents.

Ever since his graduation from Hogwarts five years before, he had become more and more distant with his family. Until, one day, he didn't speak to them at all. He had only a day's notice to pack and come home; he had no idea that his mother was pregnant, and now he had a baby sister. His assessment of the situation was that in their eyes he had failed them and they needed another to carry on in their place. And that was perfectly fine with him.

After ten minutes of meandering throw Hogsmeade, he finally came to the small shop he was looking for. Ebony was undoubtedly blessed with the endowments he had. She would need a good strong toy to expand her mind. Hopefully, if he continued to visit her, she would see the errors of their parents and turn away from them as he had.

He was just about to enter the shop, when he stopped dead in his tracks. Someone in the distance was calling his name, and the voice sounded very familiar.

He looked up, his eyes widening with shock as a brown-eyed, brown-haired beauty came tearing towards him.

"Draco," she said, her face beaming with happiness. She looked more gorgeous than he remembered.

"Hermione," he said, unable to think of something more profound and perfect to say.

"I haven't seen you since seventh year. Where have you been?" He wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was; that he'd run away from anything that reminded him of her, burying himself in a country with a language, up until two years ago, he could not understand.

"Spain," he said flatly, glancing in every direction but hers. "I work for the Spanish branch of the Ministry."

"I work for the Ministry too! I'm here in London though. I didn't get far."

He was about to say something, but the words dissolved when he noticed something he had completely missed at first. Hermione looked very different, of course; she was taller, leaner, and had an all around more mature look to her. But the biggest difference of all was her bulging belly, hidden horribly by her bulky robes.

"You're pregnant?" he asked stupidly, pointing to her belly.

"Very much so," she laughed, her hands instinctively wrapping around it.

"It's Weasley's?" Strangely, he did not frown or grimace as he said this. She smiled warmly; he had done some maturing over the years as well. He was not the cold hard man she had once known. How she wanted to know what he had been doing with his life since graduation.

"Yes, our second," she said proudly. "Scarlett turned two last month. Rory isn't due for another two months."

"I take it you've gotten married then." It was not a question. "Are you happy?" Neither expected the question, but, now that it was out, they were both relieved he'd asked it.

"I'm very happy, Draco." But there was an underlying, soft sadness in her eyes. "But I can still miss you."

He averted his eyes, nodding.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did you have Dumbledore give me a sleeping draught? Why didn't you want me to know?"

"You know the answer to that, Hermione," he sighed. He glanced at her, then down at her belly. Foolishly he imagined his son or daughter inside of her.

"Did you think I would never find out?" There was nothing accusatory in her voice.

"There was a chance." He shrugged. What was it about her that made him shrivel up inside? He had done such a good job not thinking about her. And now, all of a sudden, they were face-to-face and talking about their secret past. "How did you find out?" Ignoring his nervousness, he looked at her, and was quite happy he did. She was smiling.

"Do you remember that night I asked you directly about the Displacer?" He nodded. How could he forget that? "I never really left. I stayed outside the door. I was about to leave, when I heard you crying. With a weak spell, I expanded the keyhole just enough to look inside…You were holding the picture, and I knew."

"And the note?"

"What about it?"

He took a deep breath. Now or never.

"Did you mean it?"

Her smile widened and she pulled him into a warm embrace. He melted immediately in her arms, savoring the sweet smell of her hair and the undeniably perfect feel of her body pressed to his. He had been waiting five years for this very moment.

"I meant every word, Draco," she whispered, giving him a quick, friendly kiss on the cheek. "And I still do."

"I miss you, Hermione," he admitted, his voice catching in his throat for an instant. "But I'm glad you're happy."

"And you?" She stood back, adjusting her bag over her shoulder.

"I'm managing," he laughed. She gave him a look as if to say, "Tell me everything, Draco." He swallowed his pride and obliged. "I won't lie," he said, looking directly into her eyes. "There's hardly a time I don't think about you. I live alone in Madrid, and this is the first time in over a year that I've been home or even talked to my parents."

"So you've denied them?"

"Yes. I'm not their prized child anymore, but that's all well and good for me. I'm content in Spain."

"Any lucky ladies in your life?"

He shrugged.

"I dated a few different girls at the office, but nothing serious. I don't think Spanish girls are my taste. I'm going to take some time off and go on vacation. Maybe America has what Spain's missing."

"Well," Hermione said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm happy to see that you're moving on with your life. But I want you to know that I think about you a lot too. And I hope that you do find someone that makes you as happy as Ron makes me. You deserve so much better than what you have, Draco."

"He treats you good?"

Hermione laughed and nodded. "Of course."

"Because if he ever—"

"He's a good man, Draco. And I love him…Now, are you going to tell me what you're doing at a Hogsmeade toy shop? Or should I assume that you're channeling your inner child and are looking for a Dumbledore figurine?"

Draco scoffed, but smiled.

"My mother had a baby," he said without emotion. "Her name's Ebony. I'm getting her something before I meet her."

"That's wonderful," Hermione exclaimed, pulling him into another swift hug. "I hope her big brother can influence her some."

"That's my plan. From what I heard she's very powerful, and looks just like me."

"I can imagine," she laughed. "Well, do you need some help picking something out? I do have some experience with little girls."

"I don't know, Hermione. Would Weasley want us shopping together?"

"I'm my own person, Draco. And if I want to shop with an old friend then I will. Now come on." She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the shop. "And I want to hear everything about you since graduation."

"Do you have three hours?" he laughed, giving way to a small smile. As loveless as his life had been, it had nonetheless been an exciting ride.

"For you," she said, looking at him with those big chocolate eyes that told him how true her note had been, "I have all the time in the world."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

THE END:)

I hope everyone liked it! I know Draco and Hermione are supposed to get together, but I never intended that from the beginning. Alternate Love means that they can only be together in an alternate time. And no matter how much they love each other they can never be together in their reality. They're like Romeo and Juliet, if you want to get technical. And they still love each other as much as they did when they were at Hogwarts. So don't worry about Draco! He'll find happiness, I promise:)

REVIEW! Please:D

And I hope everyone enjoyed my tale.

READ BELOW!

P.S. Incase anyone was wondering, Draco and Hermione do stay in touch after that. Ron accepts this (thinking that they reconciled after bumping into each other in Hogsmeade), and, after meeting the new Draco, finds that he truly has changed. He and Hermione have been married since they were nineteen, and Harry and Ginny were married a few months after them. They currently have no children. And after a two-month stay in the United States, Draco is engaged to a muggle college student. Her name is Eve, and he finally understands how Hermione can love him and Ron at the same time.


End file.
